


A Favor

by ectothermal, LPSunnyBunny



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Begging, Consensual Non-Consent, Humiliation, Intersex Kankri, M/M, Master/Pet, No Safeword, POV Alternating, Possessive Behavior, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rp style writing, Touch Repulsed Kankri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectothermal/pseuds/ectothermal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny
Summary: Dirk and Kankri have been friends for a bit of time now- an unlikely friendship to anyone looking on from the outside. Now, Kankri has an unusual favor to ask of Dirk- and Dirk, of course, agrees without hesitation.
Relationships: Dirk Strider/Kankri Vantas
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Dirk Strider is a nice guy.

Not a Nice Guy, _tee em_ , but a real, actual thoughtful and kind person. Kankri holds the memory of meeting Dirk - a night that otherwise could have easily gone in the lockbox with several other unpleasant repressed memories - as a rare precious moment, a bout of real serendipity. He feels indescribably lucky. A man who cared about his wellbeing, who went out of his way to help when Kankri was floundering and in over his head, who gently rescinded his touch and apologized the first time Kankri jerked away from it - who let Kankri sleep in his bed without needing to worry if he would wake up to wandering hands? Kankri gained a friend that night. No, more than a friend. Someone he truly _trusts._

It's this trust that sits him down with his laptop to message Dirk. They've seen each other since that stupid party, of course - small coffee 'dates' (unofficial) and little check-ins between classes, the occasional late night study-and-talk session. More talk than study, if Kankri is being honest. Both of them are hard to shut up once they really get going.

clairvoyantGanymede [CG] started pestering timaeusTestified [TT] at 7:43PM

CG: Dirk.   
CG: I have... a strange request t9 ask 9f y9u.   
CG: Are y9u in the right headspace t9 receive p9tentially distur6ing inf9rmati9n?

Kankri is a bit weird.

Not that that's a bad thing, or even an unusual one, but Dirk can't deny that Kankri has some... interesting behaviors. He certainly likes the guy well enough- he's actually funny if you're able to read his massive blocks of text when he gets going about something, he's passionate, if a touch misguided at times, and he's just as respectful of Dirk's quirks as Dirk is with his.

In fact, spending time with Kankri can be downright pleasant- on more than one occasion its devolved into talking at length about subjects that encourage endless discussion.

(Dirk knows it's mean, but sometimes he likes playing devil's advocate just to see Kankri get worked up.)

So when the message from Kankri comes, he doesn't even hesitate as he sends his reply.

TT: Sure am, go for it.   
TT: What kind of strange are we talking?   
CG: If y9u d9n't mind, I think it will 6e easier f9r me t9 just explain as I g9.   
CG: All9w me t9 preface all 9f this with: I trust y9u, Dirk.   
CG: As I kn9w y9u are aware, I struggle with physical c9ntact 9f all kinds. I have n9t 6een particularly f9rthc9ming with the reas9n f9r this, and I w9uld like t9 c9ntinue t9 never talk a69ut it ever, 6ut...   
CG: It vexes me.   
CG: I want t9 6e t9uched, 6ut I can't accept it.   
CG: 6ecause 9f this aversi9n t9 t9uch, I find myself with little 9pti9ns when it c9mes t9... intimacy. It has 6ec9me rather imp9ssi6le t9 pr9ceed in a n9rmal manner.   
CG: 6ut if I, hyp9thetically, were in a situati9n where my c9nsent were n9t a fact9r...   
CG: D9 y9u understand what I mean?   
TT: Oh, so what, you want to be raped?   
CG: Jesus, y9u really have n9 pr9clivity f9r su6tlety.   
CG: 6ut... yes. That is what I want.   
TT: I figure with shit like this it's better to be blunt.   
TT: Less chance of miscommunications and all that.   
TT: Alright. I can do that.   
CG: 9h.   
CG: Just like that?   
TT: Well, yeah.   
TT: I think you're quite attractive but, knowing your touch aversion, I've kept it to myself.   
TT: Didn't want to freak you out or make you feel pressured.   
TT: But since you're asking, I'd be stupid to say no.   
TT: I've had a few fantasies myself, honestly, so I have no problem helping you out with yours.   
CG: 9h... thank y9u.   
CG: I h9pe it is n9 secret that I find y9u attractive as well.   
CG: Perhaps I c9uld find a way t9 help y9u with y9urs in return.   
CG: Als9 - I appreciate h9w. "Chill." Y9u're 6eing a69ut this.   
CG: It makes me feel a little 6it less like a freak.   
TT: Yeah, maybe.   
TT: Don't worry, I won't expect it. This isn't exactly an IOU kinda situation.   
TT: I don't think there's anything wrong with what you're feeling, that kind of fantasy is pretty normal honestly.   
TT: Just a lot of people don't want to admit it.   
TT: Alright, tell me honestly, though.   
TT: Do you actually want zero ability to say no, or do you just want the *illusion* of being unable to say no?   
CG: Perhaps y9u are right. H9wever, my Cath9lic up6ringing dictates that I feel extreme guilt and disgust 9ver even the smallest deviancies.   
CG: I appreciate that y9u assuage that.   
CG: Hm.   
CG: I d9n't want t9 6e a6le t9 st9p y9u. I kn9w that I will if I have the a6ility even th9ugh it isn't what I want and I'll 9nly end up frustrated with myself.   
CG: Are y9u... c9mf9rta6le with that?   
TT: That's totally fine.   
TT: Just one of those things you gotta check.   
TT: You understand that by saying this, even if you beg or cry or change your mind, even if it hurts,   
TT: I won't stop.   
TT: I would hold you down and rape you as you cry and beg and plead.   
TT: No amounts of 'no' would stop me.   
TT: There would be no backing out.   
TT: I could hurt you as much as I want and   
TT: I   
TT: won't   
TT: stop.   
TT: Is that what you want?   
CG: G9d, yes, that is what I want.   
CG: I want t9 6e a6le t9 fight and scream and cry and kn9w that I w9n't ruin it if I d9.   
CG: I want y9u t9 take what y9u want fr9m me. I want y9u t9 f9rce me t9 cum -   
CG: 9h.   
CG: There's an9ther thing y9u sh9uld kn9w.   
TT: Yes?   
CG: My 69dy is... a little 9dd. An9ther reas9n I struggle with things like this, I supp9se.   
CG: I am intersex. I have a vagina, and 6reasts, and a... diminutive penis.   
CG: N9t exactly the m9st welc9me 9f surprises, I imagine.   
TT: Unexpected, sure.   
TT: That doesn't make it unwelcome.   
TT: I'm a flexible guy.   
TT: Just means I don't gotta worry about prep when I rape you, yeah?   
TT: I bet you'll get wet enough for it.   
CG: 99999h my g9d   
TT: I'll take that as a yes.   
TT: More questions, though.   
TT: Do you want forewarning? Or should it be out of nowhere?   
CG: 6ig yes.   
CG: May6e *s9me* f9rewarning, 6ut n9thing precise?   
CG: Y9u c9uld just tell me the day 9f, 6ut n9t when t9 expect it. S9mething like that.   
CG: Let me fester a little in anticipati9n and w9nder if I'm excited 9r scared.   
TT: Sounds good to me.   
TT: How rough do you want it?   
TT: And or how mean do you want me to be?   
CG: As r9ugh as y9u want t9 6e.   
CG: I d9n't kn9w. I supp9se... n9t that I want y9u t9 6e *acting* necessarily, 6ut I think I w9uld like it 6etter if it was less *mean* and m9re... 96sessive?   
CG: D9es that even make sense?   
TT: Ah, jilted lover rape instead of violent stranger rape.   
TT: That's certainly easier to work with.   
TT: An easier headspace to get into, that's for certain.   
TT: It's all to easy to imagine how you might have been leading me on, flirting and then pulling back, flaunting yourself and then spurning me   
TT: Until it becomes too much and I simply have to take what I want, put you in your place underneath me, taking my dick like a good bitch should.   
TT: Something like that?

Kankri nearly chokes as he watches Dirk's messages roll in, needing to set down his coffee mug with shaking hands and take a moment and hold his face in his hands as Dirk effortlessly describes exactly what he was looking for but didn't know how to say in such direct terms. His dick is painfully hard between his legs, his pussy dribbling steadily into the cleft of his ass and soaking into his underwear as he sinks into his own bed, curling up with his laptop balanced on his knees and chin in a strange upside down turtle position.

He's overwhelmed.

CG: H9ly shit.   
CG: S9mething exactly like that.   
CG: And   
CG: 6itch is g99d. I like 6itch.   
TT: Good.   
TT: Anything you want me to avoid?   
TT: Action or word wise.   
TT: Don't want to set off something..... genuinely bad.   
TT: That's a weird sentence considering what we're planning but whatever.   
TT: You okay with choking? Being called a slut?   
TT: Spanked?   
CG: Just d9n't call me a freak.   
CG: Jaja, it is a little strange. The c9ntext 69th supp9rts and c9ntradicts the sentiment.   
CG: Hmm. Yes, definitely yes, yes.   
CG: Is there... anything y9u specifically want 9ut 9f this?   
CG: I fear I've 6een s9mewhat self-centric here.   
TT: What I want?   
TT: Hm.   
TT: I suppose the answer 'getting to fuck a hot boy' isn't adequate?   
TT: I must admit, though, I do have an overwhelming weak spot for domination.   
TT: All the better if I get to make you cry.   
CG: I am glad that my participati9n is an 9verall pr9 f9r y9u.   
CG: I a6s9lutely welc9me y9ur d9minati9n - d9 y9u want t9 6reak me d9wn? Make me desperate t9 6e y9urs?   
CG: Christ, y9u've g9t *me* talking with9ut reservati9n, n9w.   
CG: Making me cry sh9uldn't 6e a pr96lem.   
TT: It's not a want, Kankri.   
TT: It's a _promise_.   
TT: I'll have you sobbing and clawing at your bed, helpless underneath me as I take what I want, make that pretty cunt of your mine.   
TT: Fuck you open on the dick that owns you, turn you into the messiest, prettiest little bitch there is.   
TT: All for me.   
TT: I won't stop no matter how much you beg, no matter how you struggle, you can scream no at the top of your lungs but it won't matter.   
TT: Because you're mine.   
TT: You belong to me.   
TT: I just need to make you remember that.

Dirk pauses, hands hover over his keyboard. His dick is so fucking hard in his pants right now- but he might be getting a little carried away. Just because Kankri said he wants to be raped doesn't mean he wanted to be assaulted with a wall of text about Dirk's enthusiasm for the idea.

TT: That the kind of mood you're looking for?

Kankri's thighs squeeze hard together as he reads Dirk's messages, one hand over his mouth in an attempt to muffle his sharp gasp even though there's no one around to catch him. The way Dirk has hit on exactly what Kankri has held close to his chest, his shameful desires - he doesn't think he could get wetter or harder. His cunt and his dick are _screaming_ for touch. He stubbornly crosses his ankles, sinking even further into his pillows and sweater, turtleneck collar pushed up around his heavily flushed cheeks.

Okay. He can do this. He can meet Dirk at his level.

CG: That is   
CG: Exactly the m99d I am l99king f9r.   
CG: I want y9u t9 make me y9urs.   
CG: I want y9u t9 fuck me until I'm n9t afraid 9f it anym9re.   
CG: I want y9u t9 fuck me until I d9n't want anything else 6ut t9 6e 9n y9ur c9ck.

Dirk grins at that response. Oh, yeah, he's got him. He's right where Kankri wants him to be.

TT: Then that's what I'll do.   
TT: One of these days I'll let you know the date.   
TT: And then I'm going to rape you. Make you my crying, sobbing bitch.   
TT: And, just to summarize, freak is off the table.   
TT: More possessive than aggressive.   
TT: And there will be no stopping.   
TT: Understand?   
CG: Underst99d.   
CG: Thank y9u, Dirk.

clairvoyantGanymede [CG]  ceased pestering  timaeusTestified [TT]  at 8:27PM 

Kankri isn't sure he could come up with anything else intelligent or plain old not-mortifying to say, so he leaves it there. His laptop snaps shut, carelessly shoved to a far corner of his bed as his hands finally, _finally_ delve into his leggings, sinking slender fingers deep in his pussy and jerking his little cock.

He doesn't often do this. Kankri's motions are arrhythmic and jerky, further hindered by the trappings of his clothing, but he doesn't care, gasping and whimpering as he desperately chases pleasure, as he imagines Dirk being the one to give it to him, to _force_ him to take it.

" _Shit,_ " he whispers, the only other sounds in his bedroom his own heavy breathing and the lewd, slick sounds of his fingers plunging into his cunt over and over; it doesn't take long until he's crying high, knees curling up and back arching as his orgasm takes him, cock dribbling over his hand as his pussy clenches and his muscles quake.

"Shit," he repeats, breathless, blinking at the ceiling until the white recedes from his vision. His messy hands slink out of his pants, smearing cum and juices across his sheets as he ragdolls.

If Dirk Strider could do this to him with simple words, Kankri can't _imagine_ what he could do to him with his hands. Or his mouth. Or his cock.

Kankri ends the chat abruptly- not unusual, for him- and it allows Dirk to immediately lean back in his chair and get his dick out of his too-tight pants.

"Fuck." He groans, starting a hard, furious pace.

He gets to rape Kankri. He gets to rape _Kankri._ He gets to _rape_ Kankri.

He's never been harder in his fucking life. The touch-adverse, prudish, nervous babbler Kankri wants Dirk to pin him down and fuck him.

The thought of finally getting to put his hands under Kankri's sweater and touch him, getting to _pin him down_ , getting to fuck him into the sheets as hard as he wants- oh, fuck that has Dirk basically cumming just _thinking_ about it.

What if Kankri wants to do this _again?_ What if this isn't a one-time thing, he said 'make me _yours_ '.

Dirk imagines Kankri, pinned to the bed, his legs spread as he shakes and struggles, tears welling up in those haughty, pretty eyes and that does it, he cums so fucking hard his vision goes white for a moment.

Holy fuck.

Okay. Yeah. He's so fucking down for this.

He's going to give it some time to stew, though, give it some time for Kankri to change his mind-

So Dirk waits about a week and a half. Then, the day before they have plans to meet up at Kankri's and study, he sends Kankri a message.

timaeusTestified [TT] started pestering clairvoyantGanymede [CG] at 11:27PM  
TT: I'm going to rape you tomorrow.  
TT: Be ready.  
timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering clairvoyantGanymede [CG] at 11:27PM

That's enough forewarning.

The next day, Dirk shows up and knocks on Kankri's door like it's any other normal hangout session.

Kankri can't stop buzzing all day. Dirk's succinct message of forewarning the previous night floated through his dreams, had him waking up soaked through his pajamas so many times he eventually gave up on wearing them at all, fucking his naked dick up against his sheets as he buried his face into his pillows. God, he feels _depraved,_ cunt wet and dripping all day through his classes in anticipation.

He wonders if anyone else notices. He wonders if Dirk will notice before he even gets his hands on Kankri, will see or even fucking _smell_ how wet he is without having a single finger laid on him. He wonders if Dirk will use it against him, will taunt him with how his body clearly begs for him while he fights and cries.

He prepares for their study session as he normally would, fresh coffee set to brew while he lays out his materials. The only difference lies just under his clothing - a sweet, sheer black dot mesh bralette and panty set hidden beneath one of his typical conservative oversized sweaters. Maybe it's silly; Dirk is going to rape him, after all. It's the kind of thing you don't prepare or dress up for.

It serves an important purpose to Kankri, though - a reminder to himself that this is what he _wants._ Maybe it will be a reminder for Dirk, as well.

Kankri rushes to the door as soon as he hears the knock, smoothing his sweater out and taking a deep breath before he opens it. It's a 'normal study session'. Just... act regular.

"Hello, Dirk," Kankri welcomes his ~~rapist~~ friend warmly into his apartment, stepping aside to let him pass. "Coffee?"

Kankri answers the door and it's like it's completely normal. The same smile. The same sweater. Dirk gives him a little nod as he steps inside.

"Sup, Kankri. Coffee sounds great." He says.

He's already got this planned out. Give some time of actual studying to let Kankri get worked up and nervous and then Dirk will grab him.

And then Dirk will pin him down and rape him.

It's a really weird sensation, following Kankri to get coffee while looking at him and thinking _'I'm going to rape you.'_

Knowing that Kankri knows. Knowing that Kankri knows that Dirk knows. A strange almost-anticipation that Dirk is acting like it isn't there. Like in a couple of hours he won't be fucking Kankri into his bed while Kankri cries and begs him to stop.

"So, what's on tap for today's study session? Keats again?" Dirk asks, watching Kankri get a mug for him.

"Of course." Kankri shuts his door and slides the deadbolt before leading Dirk into the kitchen. "Cream and sugar?" he asks over his shoulder as he pulls a mug - it's Dirk's mug, not that Kankri has said as much out loud - down from the cabinet.

Nervous prickles run down his spine with Dirk behind him, where he can't see him; his senses are alive, on high alert, as he pours fresh coffee for Dirk with just enough room to add cream if he wishes. He sets it aside on the counter, gesturing to the fridge while he pulls down a mug for himself, repeating the process.

"Mm," Kankri hums in agreement. "Keats, perhaps some Lord Byron. If you're feeling spicy." He chuckles to himself. Byron was always a fun study, with all his personal scandal. And rampant, sometimes-incestuous bisexuality.

Kankri pours him coffee and leaves him room for cream which, fuck yes, Dirk is all over that shit. He puts a healthy dollop in and watches the color shift from coffee-black to actually-drinkable-tan.

Dirk hums a little in amusement at Kankri's words. "Well then, by all means, bring forwards the Bryon." He says, and gestures for Kankri to go ahead of him.

It's a deliberate tactic. Putting himself behind Kankri as much as possible where Kankri can't see him to put him more on edge.

Kankri pours cream into his coffee until it's absurdly pale and sips it thoughtfully as he leads Dirk back to the living room. He suspects Dirk is doing this on purpose - not that he isn't generally polite, but his actions feel more deliberate. But perhaps that's just because Kankri can't stop thinking about _when_ Dirk is going to strike - maybe Dirk isn't even trying at all.

Kankri sits on his couch, setting his coffee down on the table to pick up a hefty literature textbook and one of Byron's collections.

"Look at that moustache," he says, mildly and mostly to himself, as he admires the painting of Byron displayed on the back. "What a fancy lad."

"Truly the fanciest of men." Dirk says, sitting down next to Kankri, just enough for their knees to be bumping. Closer than normal.

He doesn't make any other moves as they actually _do_ do some studying, keeping an eye on Kankri's body language, waiting for him to start to relax.

He still wants to take Kankri off guard as much as possible.

More than once, he finds himself watching Kankri's mouth as he talks, thinking _I'm going to rape you. That mouth is going to beg me to stop._

_You can't say no._

He's so fucking ready. He forces himself to wait.

Wait.

Wait.

He's a hunter, patience is key. Kankri is his _prey._

He waits for his opportunity.

Their coffee almost gone, Kankri gets up to go pee. Dirk gives him thirty seconds and then follows him.

He leans against the wall, casual. When Kankri steps out, Dirk grabs his upper arms and spins them around, pushing Kankri up against the wall and pinning him there.

"Did you think," Dirk asks, his heart pounding, his dick already starting to get hard in his pants, "that I wouldn't fucking _notice?_ "

Kankri's leg jiggles nervously as they study; Dirk is so close, just barely brushing Kankri with his knee every so often and filling Kankri with the familiar screaming urge to jerk away, like thousands of spider legs prickling his skin at once. He won't move, though. He won't ruin this. For either of them.

As they study, and as he drinks his coffee-flavored cream, Kankri slowly relaxes, cracking an occasional joke that interrupts the monotony.

"Excuse me, one second," he says, setting the books on the table and stretching as he stands up and heads to the bathroom. He's still quite relaxed, but fresh anticipation swells as he relieves himself. Perhaps Dirk would wait for Kankri to fall asleep - would Kankri even be _able_ to sleep with so much antsy energy inside him?

He washes his hands, opens the bathroom door, and -

_Oh God, oh God, get off, GET OFF -_

Kankri shouts in surprise and panic as Dirk grabs him and shoves him up against the wall, and the spiderlike prickles are a hundred times worse, and he claws at Dirk's arms in a mindless, instinctive effort to shove him away.

" _What?_ " Kankri gasps, momentarily forgetting the narrative Dirk laid out for this scene, too overcome by the trigger of touch to think straight. He slams face-first into realization a second later, finally processing Dirk's words, the low, hungry tone of his voice. Fuck. _Fuck._ Warmth spreads immediately between his legs, low in his hips; it only grows as his struggling proves futile, as panic races up his spine and itches his skin the more he can't shake or push Dirk's hands _off._

"Notice _what?_ " Kankri repeats, desperate fear pitching his voice higher.

Oh, Kankri's terrified. The clear panic on his face, the struggling to push Dirk off, the pitch to his voice- if Dirk were a better man, it might make him concerned, might make him back off.

Too bad he's not a better man.

The feeling of Kankri struggling under his hands, the fearful expression on his face- Dirk's cock has literally never been harder.

"Notice all your _teasing_." Dirk breathes, hands squeezing tightly on Kankri's upper arms, pressing him into the wall. When Kankri struggles, Dirk doesn't give him an _inch._

"You think I wouldn't catch your glances? The lingering fucking touches? You've almost fucking kissed me _so_ many times, haven't you? You fucking _tease_ , flirting with me and then kicking me to the curb." Dirks leaning in as he talks, so that by the end, their mouths are barely inches apart.

"So I'm _taking what you've been flaunting._ " He growls and then seals their mouths together, immediately shoving his tongue into Kankri's mouth.

Shit, he can't even _budge_ like this. Dirk is larger and stronger than him in every respect, and he holds Kankri down like it's nothing to him, and Kankri can feel himself soaking his fucking panties already. It's fucking bizarre, like a left hook punching him directly into a follow-up right, like having his legs swept out from under him and momentarily losing sense of which way is up, tossed between panic and arousal and fear and attraction like a rowboat at sea.

Dirk keeps getting closer, and Kankri warbles in fear, first thrusting the heels of his palms against Dirk's chest as if it would make any difference, and then pressing them into Dirk's shoulders as if it could hold him back. Kankri retreats backwards until the back of his head meets the wall and he has nowhere else to go.

"I never - I _can't_ -" he gasps, breath short and shaking, shoulders jerking as if he still thinks he could throw off Dirk's grip - or like he's too discomforted not to try. "Please, I -"

Dirk cuts him off, growl stunning Kankri into momentary silence before his mouth presses against Kankri's slack lips, tongue pressing into his mouth insistent and firm.

Kankri makes a sound of protest, eyes squeezing shut and attempting to turn his head out of the kiss. He won't bite down. He won't hurt Dirk. He'll let Dirk fuck his mouth with his tongue if he wants and he'll shake and he'll take it because he won't hurt Dirk for real for doing something he _begged_ for. He makes a smaller, more desperate whine of distress into Dirk's mouth, still trying to twist away; his fingers claw and grasp at Dirk's shirt, trying to use it to push Dirk back, or aside, or anywhere that isn't _right up against him lighting his fight or flight response on fire._

Kankri protests, of course, and each one is just fuel to the fire in Dirk's stomach. He tries to twist away from the kiss- but Dirk is not having any of that.

He lets go of one of Kankri's arms to grab his chin and force his head forwards again, shoving his tongue in, deep and possessive.

Each attempt to push him away, to get him off is summarily ignored. Kankri has almost no strength compared to Dirk and wow that's so fucking hot. Dirk can literally just pin Kankri to the wall and Kankri can't do **anything.**

That's so fucking hot. That's _so_ hot and Dirk grinds his hips forwards into Kankri and lets him feel the pressure of Dirk's hard-on against his stomach.

He pulls back enough to breath, and growls out a "feel what you do to me, you slut?"

Dirk snatches Kankri by the chin, forces his head forward, and makes him just fucking _take it,_ jaw slack and body shaking as Dirk's tongue invades his mouth again; Kankri's face crumples with the threat of tears. His hands still press back against Dirk's shoulders, his body still presses back as if he could meld into the wall to escape, but the belief that he could succeed is flagging.

He has nowhere to go as Dirk presses his body flush against him; Kankri freezes solid, brain and heart misfiring as he registers the hard dick grinding against his stomach. _Big,_ he thinks, dumb, as he stands there and lets Dirk tongue-fuck his mouth and hump him and he's shaking and when Dirk pulls away from his mouth it all breaks open.

The struggle isn't smart, anymore, has no real goal other than to get it _out_ \- Kankri wails and cries as Dirk calls him a slut, lashing out to hit and slap and kick him wherever he can easily reach with their bodies flush, with Dirk's mass pinning him down.

"Please," his broken voice begs, bubbling with sobs as he sags back into the realization of helplessness, "please don't - I don't -"

Kankri cuts himself off before he can say _I don't want this,_ head tipping back against the wall and eyes squeezing shut again as he makes another futile shove at Dirk's chest. The effort has his full body shifting against Dirk's, has him gasping in shame as his hard dick ruts against Dirk's thigh. His eyes snap open, wide and watery and mortified; his mouth opens as if to speak, to make some sort of excuse, but his jaw just hitches uselessly before he shuts it again.

Kankri thrashes and struggles and Dirk lets go of Kankri's chin to grab his arm again and pin it down as Kankri _begs_ so sweetly.

And then Dirk feels Kankri's dick against his thigh. It's small, definitely, but it's absolutely hard.

Oh, yeah. Kankri wants this.

So Dirk laughs, a cruel smirk pulling at his mouth.

"Yeah, you slut?" He croons, and jerks his thigh forwards, grinding it against Kanrki's dick even as Kankri tries to push him off. "I fucking knew it- you're a fucking _tease_. You love flirting and then pulling away, it gets you so fucking wet to turn men on, doesn't it?"

"I bet you never expected someone confident enough to call your bluff, did you?" Dirk asks. "You dumb bitch. It's time to cash those checks your body's been writing."

He pulls back and drags Kankri into his bedroom, shoving him down to the bed and pinning him down under Dirk's weight.

"Let's get that lumpy sweater off, Kankri." Dirk growls and pulls at it. "I want to see the body you've been hiding."

"No -" Kankri gasps, choking on his own voice, eyes wide as Dirk realizes he's hard, "No - please - oh God -"

Even he can't tell if the sound that comes out of him with Dirk's thigh grinding against his dick is a moan or a cry. The contact, the pressure - it's horrible, and it's delicious, and Kankri at once can't stand it and would rather die than go without it. Dirk calls him a dumb bitch and his voice hiccups but his cock jumps obviously where it's pinned between them. Jesus.

Dirk pulls away and Kankri's hit with simultaneous washes of _thank God_ and _don't go_ ; it doesn't last, feet scrambling to keep himself upright as Dirk carts him to bed. He crashes into bed, Dirk's weight and strength immediately on top of him; Kankri kicks and writhes, hands pushing at Dirk's stomach as he tries to knock him off-balance. He's so far past his threshold for touch that the prickling fire ant feeling is starting to dull and fade into the background, and the tears that spill fresh from his eyes are more relieved than frightened.

Dirk tugs at his sweater, demands to see his body; Kankri scrambles to keep it on with a startled _hey!_ but still ends up with his arms flailing over his head as the heavy garment is stripped away. His arms immediately recoil to cover his soft chest, elbows pulled tight to his sides, trying to hide himself, to make himself even smaller than he already is underneath Dirk. His face turns away, flushing with heat and embarrassment and _excitement_ to have his lingerie exposed, for Dirk to know Kankri dressed up special just so that Dirk could ruin him.

"Don't - don't look at me, please, Dirk, don't," Kankri whimpers, and his hips attempt another sharp buck as if he could unseat the man on top of him.

Kankri struggles and tries to push him off but the _flush_ on his face as his body is revealed- god. Dirk can't get enough.

He gives a delighted little chuckle as Kankri tries to hide himself, looking at the pretty bralette Kankri has on.

"Kankri, did you _dress up_ for me?" Dirk asks with a smirk, grabbing Kankri's wrists and pulling them away from his chest, pinning them down on either side of Kankri's head. "You really shouldn't have." Dirk purrs. "That makes you even _more_ fuckable, baby."

He gives a pointed grind of his hips, pressing his dick against Kankri's.

"I think you knew that though, don't you?" Dirk asks. "You got dressed this morning with the intent of _tempting_ me. Of showing yourself off-"

He leans in and their mouths are inches apart again.

"-of making yourself _rapeable_." Dirk growls. "That's what you are, aren't you? You're a pretty little piece of rape bait, flaunting yourself, _begging_ to be raped."

"No," Kankri lies, immediately, trying to snatch his wrists away from Dirk's grip until he presses them into the bed. There's a moment where he goes boneless, held securely underneath Dirk while his voice rumbles in his head, calls him _baby_ and _fuckable_ and rocks his big hard dick against Kankri's little one and Kankri can't help but whine, desperate.

"No, I - I didn't," Kankri gasps, still lying as Dirk continues to accuse him of dressing up for Dirk, to make Dirk want to rape him. Of course he did. He wants Dirk to rape him more than he wants to fucking breathe, wants Dirk to forcefully take what Kankri can't freely give, and how else could he show it?

Kankri's mind screeches to a halt as Dirk calls him _rape bait,_ pussy fucking _gushing_ slick and moan jumping out of him and eyes wide like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar - almost guilty. Dirk is so fucking close now, body and face and hands and mind; there's no way he didn't drink in the whole humiliating reaction.

"No - no, Dirk, please," Kankri fumbles to catch up, to cover up how fucking turned on that simple phrase got him, "Please, don't do this, I'm not - I'm _not._ " His slight chest heaves with the heavy breath of both arousal and fear, the gentle roundness of his breasts barely stretching the mesh cups of his bralette, sweet little darkened nipples peaked and hard beneath the see-through fabric.

Dirk watches his words sink in. Watches Kankri's eyes go wide at being called _rape bait_ and the shuddering, helpless moan and the way his thighs clench under Dirk.

Bingo.

"You're _not_?" Dirk purrs, "could have fucking fooled me." He leans in and nips at Kankri's earlobe, the presses his mouth right against Kankri's ear and growls, low and soft, "seems to me you don't even know what you are. You don't know how you invite men to fuck you, how erotic your body is-"

He lets go of one of Kankri's wrists and reaches down, grabbing roughly over one of Kankri's small tits and squeezing.

"-or maybe you _do_ , you know what a delectable piece of rape bait you are and that's why you wear those sweaters all the time, right?"

Dirk keeps his voice low and husky and _possessive_ as he growls in Kankri's ear, letting his hips start to rock against Kankri, reminding him of what's to come, making him feel Dirk's cock as it waits to get to plunge into Kankri's body.

"I'm _not!_ " Kankri insists - it might sound petulant if it wasn't so pitiful. Dirk's teeth on his skin, the way his voice buzzes as he speaks low right into his ear has Kankri shivering, has his thighs clenching together, has him whimpering at the mere idea that his body could be something attractive, enticing, rather than abhorrent and unnatural like he's been made to feel about it.

Dirk grabs and squeezes Kankri's chest, and his nipple rubs up against the fabric of his bra and the firm plane of Dirk's palm as he kneads his fingers into the soft flesh. Kankri lets out a stuttering whimper, chest lifting and then curling back as if he can't decide whether he wants to seek more or to flinch away.

Kankri can't think of a thing to say in the face of Dirk calling him rape bait again, obviously having picked up on how fucking hot Kankri found it, how his body reacts involuntarily to the sound and the meaning. His cock twitches beneath Dirk, his pussy soaks through his leggings as his thighs shake and squeeze together; as if that weren't enough, Dirk keeps fucking his cock up against Kankri's hips, makes him feel how rock fucking hard he is, how ready to sink inside Kankri and rape and ruin and _own him_ he is. Kankri's hips jerk underneath Dirk, involuntary and stuttering as he both seeks friction and tries not to want it. Kankri's free hand hooks inside Dirk's, belatedly realizing he's free to try to push him off his breast, grunting with effort and getting absolutely nowhere.

"Dirk, stop, stop, please stop," he pants, feet sliding along his sheets as he tries to do anything but fuck his hips up against Dirk's cock again. "Please, you don't have to do this, please don't do this, don't hurt me, _please_ -" he cuts himself off with a whimper. He feels more now like he's playing a role than he did in the initial panic when Dirk first grabbed him, his begging and protesting less desperate and more a way of giving himself permission to give in to how good it feels to be underneath Dirk Strider.

Dirk laughs in Kankri's ear, a touch meanly. Kankri is pressing into his touches and then shying away- well, Dirk won't let him go far.

" _Stop?_ " He asks mockingly. "Why would I _stop_ , this is what you're fucking made for, Kankri. You're a bitch made to be fucked- and clearly no one's ever shown you your place so I gotta do it."

Dirk squeezes Kankri's breast and lets go, reaching for his belt. He yanks it out of his belt loops and snatches up Kankri's wrists, belting them together in a tie that took three days to get to 'effortless' level of muscle memory.

"I won't have to hurt you-" Dirk says, pulling the belt tight, "-if you _behave_ , Kankri. If you lie there and look pretty like the good little rape bait you are, if you let me sink my dick into that cunt of yours and fuck you."

He lets go of Kankri's wrists and slips down the bed, sitting on his thighs and leaning in to mouth over one of Kankri's -still-covered tits. "After all, you dressed up so pretty for me-" Dirk croons against the fabric, "It's only right that I get to _appreciate_ the effort you went to, looking pretty for your rapist."

He laughs mockingly. "Really, it's almost like you _wanted_ to get raped, you dumb bitch. There's no fucking way you don't want this, that you don't know what you are, you don't know how men look at you lustfully and yearn to pin you down and fuck you."

His fingers massage at Kankri's tits as he talks, plucking his nipples through the fabric, sinking into his soft, small breasts and squeezing them.

Every mocking, filthy taunt that spills from Dirk's mouth sounds effortless - like this predator's growl and the heady, nasty way he proclaims that Kankri is pretty, how attractive he is, come as naturally to him as anything else. Kankri feels like he's seeing Dirk's truth just as much as Dirk is seeing his, all the secrets they suppress and hide exposed. 'Bitch' and 'rape bait' sound just as affectionate, just as complimentary as 'pretty' does to Kankri.

Dirk catches his wrists, and before Kankri can truly react, he has them bound securely together, looping the belt taut like it's muscle memory, and he yanks on it as he tells Kankri all he needs to do is behave if he doesn't want to be hurt. Kankri twists his arms, testing the leather, but it holds him tight and secure, and he whines, half frustration, half arousal. It doesn't even pinch. It's... Christ, it's hotter than Kankri expected it would be to be bound, to be even more helpless than he already was.

He's at Dirk's mercy, wrists left to rest uselessly above his head as his rapist shifts to admire and tease his chest. Kankri's heart stutters as Dirk mouths at his nipple, too close too close too close but god his mouth feels so good, so soft. Strong fingers squeeze into his tits, pluck and tease his sensitive nipples through his bra, leaving Kankri jerking and gasping like he's been shocked with every firm tweak.

"Nobody looks at me like _that,_ " he argues, voice weak and trembling, soft little puffs of moans breaking through his breath through Dirk's relentless attentions; it's a moment of honesty, of truth, of something even more vulnerable than being stripped and tied down with no way to say no other than the belief that Dirk won't hurt him in a way that matters. His body twists underneath Dirk's weight, trying to turn away, to hide himself from the self-inflicted humiliation of being so candid about what he sees and how he feels, from how overwhelmed he is by Dirk's alternating praise and degradation.

Dirk can't help the laugh and his hands tug Kankri's bra down, exposing his pretty tits to the air, framed perfectly by the fabric that once encased them.

"Then you really are an idiot." He says and leans in. He seals his mouth on one nipple, sucking firmly, as the other one is teased and tormented by his fingers, plucking and squeezing. He slips off with a wet noise, his head tilting up as his gaze flickers up.

"Of course people look at you." Dirk purrs. "Your pretty lips beg to be wrapped around a dick- you look like you should be doing nothing all day but being on your knees sucking cock. You wear leggings to show off your legs- the perfect curves of your ass- _begging_ people to come and spank you, to fold you in half and watch those legs jerk as you're fucked."

" _But they can't have you_." Dirk snarls, his tone shifting abruptly as he leans in, his torso slotting against Kankri's to pin him down to the bed again. Both of his hands fly up and sink into Kankri's hair, yanking his head up and back, exposing Kankri's throat. "You're _mine_ , Kankri." Dirk growls, his lips pressing to Kankri's throat.

"You're mine- none of them get to have you. You're my bitch, my own personal fuck toy, my pretty little rape bait begging to be fucked-" He's grinding his hips roughly against Kankri again, his cock sliding against Kankri's in a rolling, rocking movement. "-you _belong_ to me, Kankri- I _own_ you."

Dirk's mouth latches onto Kankri's skin, setting about giving him a collection of bruises to mark his ownership. Sucking and nipping and working the flesh over until it's hot and throbbing, over and over again.

For a moment, Kankri is a little affronted by Dirk's laughter, hurt that Dirk called him an idiot - all offense dies, though, as Dirk slips his bra off and under his tits and sucks his nipple into his mouth, leaving Kankri dumb, moaning and squirming in sensitivity underneath him. When Dirk pops off, goosebumps spread over his breast, chilled by Dirk's spit cooling in the open air, nipple taut and hardened like a little bead.

All Kankri can focus on, though, is what Dirk is saying, face and chest flushing hot as he describes the ways Kankri tempts people - tempts _him_ \- as if Dirk had always thought these things, had always thought of Kankri as desirable to the point of this level of crazed desperation. The mere idea of that draws more warmth, more fullness into Kankri's chest. He feels like he might be insane, might be truly fucked in the head that _this_ is what makes him start to believe he could be something worth having instead of something deformed and unsightly to be hidden away in shame.

Kankri gasps as Dirk growls his claim, slots his hips right up against Kankri's again and sinks his fingers into his hair to grip tight and pull hard. It's so much at once, tearing a sharp noise from Kankri's throat as his head is tugged back, as his painfully hard and leaking cock rubs up against Dirk's through all their layers. He can't feel any of that creep-crawling prickle like this, just the biting friction of mesh and stretch cotton and the building pressure of arousal.

He's so overwhelmed he can't speak, drinking in every word, every cruelly possessive name, every promise Dirk murmurs against his throat - he wants to beg for mercy, wants to break down and agree with Dirk, tell him he _is_ his bitch, his fuck toy, his pretty rape bait boyfriend, wants to give in to Dirk's aggression and his strength and his cock.

Kankri's head jerks side to side, at a loss for what to do while Dirk sucks marks all over his throat - a display Kankri often found lacking taste in others. Now, he wants nothing more than to show off Dirk's claim over him, wants to press his fucking fingers into the bruises to feel the ache.

" _Dirk,_ " Kankri whines, unsteady but obviously filled with buzzing arousal. It's not that he thinks he can stop Dirk, or urge him along, either - it's an acknowledgment of Dirk's power, that he's won. That Kankri is breaking down for _Dirk_ and Dirk alone.

Kankri calls his name and Dirk feels like the most powerful fucking man in the universe.

Here he is, marking up a boy he's been attracted to from day fucking one but has been unable to touch until now- and he gets to do _anything_. He gets to pin this boy down and make him scared and fuck him-

And Kankri is _calling his name anyway_.

"Yeah, baby, you know who you belong to." Dirk purrs, and a hand comes down and swipes over Kankri's throat, touching his brand new marks.

" _And now everyone else does, too._ " He pulls back to admire his work, drinking in the helpless, desperate expression on Kankri's face.

"I've put the main event off for long enough, don't you think?" Dirk asks, and pulls away to grab at Kankri's leggings. He pulls them off without any preamble and goes still at the sight of the matching panties.

"Oh, _Kankri_." Dirk purrs. "You really _did_ dress up for me."

He pulls the waistband of the panties and lets it snap back against Kankri's belly.

"You dumb fucking slut." Dirk says and the words are somehow both fond and mocking. "You've been waiting for someone to come along and do this, haven't you? You've been waiting for a man to finally take control and rape you because you can't ask for it yourself."

He snaps Kankri's panties again.

"You looks so pretty and dolled up- how could I undress you more?" Dirk asks. "You're so ready for me."

His hand grabs Kankri's dick through his panties and gives a tight little squeeze, then his hand slides down and _grinds_ over Kankri's cunt, over his sopping wet panties.

"Look at you." Dirk coos. "So fucking ready for me- you actually want this, don't you? You want my dick, want to be fucked so hard you can't remember anything else."

Kankri has never been so wordless in his life. He has words for everything, a thousand ways to say any one thing, and yet here he is, stunned speechless underneath this beautiful golden man as he traces fingers over Kankri's fresh bruises and praises him for giving in. Purrs in satisfaction. Tells him how everyone will know who owns him. Kankri's eyes squeeze shut, brow furrowing hard against the threat of a new wash of overwhelmed tears.

He can't believe this is the first thing he asked of Dirk. He can't believe how perfect Dirk is, anyway. He can't think of anyone else whose hands could feel like this.

Dirk warns him, in his own way, before he peels Kankri's leggings off, and Kankri's eyes snap open to find Dirk staring. He didn't think Dirk could look any hungrier, but he looks absolutely flooded with it as he takes in Kankri's already-ruined panties. He snaps the band, voice almost tender as he continues to praise and degrade Kankri in the same breaths, in the same _words_.

Kankri wants to correct Dirk, wants to admit that it was always him. It could never be _someone,_ _a_ man, _any_ man - it had to be _Dirk_ holding him down and taking Kankri for his own, _Dirk_ stuffing him full of cock and raping him, but all Kankri can do is gasp out little 'no's.

He _does_ cry fresh as Dirk squeezes his cock. He's so fucking hard and dribbling precum through the sheer mesh of his panties, cunt so wet his inner thighs are shining, needs some kind of release so badly it _hurts._ Kankri gasps, hiccuping sobs and moans as he presses into Dirk's firm touch. Kankri has nothing left to hide - Dirk has seen it all, now. How fucking wet and hard he is to be forced down and owned and raped, how he went out of his way to look pretty for Dirk when he came to take what belongs to him. It's all on display. His stomach flutters as he cries, legs and hips shifting and slipping along his sheets as he keeps pressing into Dirk's hand.

He doesn't need to say yes. Dirk already knows.

Kankri is gasping out wet little protests, tears rolling down his cheeks, and the sight is _so_ fucking pretty that Dirk knows he wants to see it more. He wants to see Kankri break down and cry in desperation and from being _touched_ too much.

He's pressing into Dirk's touch, though, and that tells Dirk all he needs to know. Kankri _is_ his slut, his dumb bitch desperate to be fucked.

"That's right, bitch." Dirk says as he reaches for his pants and opens them, getting his dick out. His breathing is coming heavier with anticipation, his blood pumping in his veins.

"It's time to make you _mine_."

He doesn't pull Kankri's panties off- no, he tugs them to the side and rubs the head of his dick over Kankri's wetness. He slowly presses in, into that soppingly wet heat, and groans, deep and pleasured at the feeling.

"Fuck, I should have done this the first fucking day I met you." Dirk breathes. "You're so fucking tight around my dick- I should've just seen you for the pretty piece of rape bait that you are and pinned you down in my bed and fucked you."

Dirk keeps sliding in, keeps pressing his dick in until he's completely seated, until he's got his dick inside Kankri to the hilt.

He's doing it. He's _raping_ Kankri and it feels so fucking _good_.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, Dirk is getting his dick out. This is really happening. Kankri wants to look, wants to see what's about to be inside him, what's been pressing against him and driving him crazy, but he can't bring himself to move. All he can do is lie there, crying, body shaking with his uneven breaths and his anticipation.

Dirk pulls Kankri's panties to the side, exposing his soaked, dripping pussy, and Kankri reflexively tenses as the air cools his drenched skin. He jumps, making a strangled, startled sound as Dirk rubs his dick through the abundance of his slick before he starts to press inside. Kankri shakes, making high, distressed little cut off whines and moans - he hasn't had anything inside larger than his own skinny fingers in so long that it almost hurts, stretching him open wider than he's used to.

As he slowly sinks inside, Dirk talks about the first day they met. Kankri remembers it, although he had been drunk, and he's filled with heat as Dirk says he should have raped him that night, held him down and fucked him into his bed. Kankri has fantasized about it more than once - the pounding ache and slow confusion in his head, Dirk's hands holding him down and taking advantage of how clumsy and weak he was. How warm Dirk's cock would feel as he fucked Kankri helpless and stupid.

Dirk slides gently home, until his hips are pressing right up against Kankri's swollen cunt, and Kankri gasps for breath, full and squeezing desperately around Dirk's cock like he needs it, or needs it _out_ , or needs it to move. He doesn't fully know. All he knows is the overwhelming heat of Dirk's cock, the awed tone of his voice. Kankri stares at the ceiling as he gasps and hiccups, chest heaving and tears rolling down his temples and into his hair and his ears.

"Dirk," Kankri chokes, voice weak and scratchy and shaking, "Dirk, I can't, please, it's so much." He doesn't even know what he's begging for, overwhelmed and needy for _something_ he can't identify.

"You can't?" Dirk asks on a breathless laugh, his hips shifting, a low groan coming from him as Kankri clenches down. "You _will_ , because I'll _make_ you, you stupid bitch."

He hikes Kankri's legs up a bit, wraps them around his waist, and leans forwards, grinding in as he cradles Kankri's face in his hands.

"You're so fucking pretty when you cry." Dirk murmurs, hungry at the sight of it. He wants to take Kankri and hide him away from the world, tie him down and fuck him forever, keep him as Dirk's own personal toy, make him cry and rape him over and over until Kankri _breaks_ and is his, is _only_ his.

Dirk is letting himself indulge in these terrible, possessive, hungry feelings that he normally keeps locked away tight and it feels _good_.

"Makes me want to pin you down and fuck that pretty mouth of yours, watch you gag and drool and cry on it." Dirk growls. "Maybe I'll take you home and tie you up underneath my desk, make you kneel and choke on my cock as I work, just a pretty fucking toy for me to use."

He lets go of Kankri's face, planting his elbows on the bed on either side of Kankri's arms, still stretched up over his head, and starts snapping his hips, fucking into Kankri with sharp, deep thrusts.

" _Fuck_ , you're a pretty little piece of rape bait." Dirk groans. "And you're all fucking mine, you're _mine_. Your cunt belongs to me- not a single person gets to fuck it but _me_."

Somehow, it's enough. It's enough for Kankri to be told it doesn't matter if he can or can't take it, if he does or doesn't want it, because it's happening and his only choice is to let Dirk use him, to let Dirk make Kankri's body his toy. It makes it easier to just give, to relax and accept the dick grinding into him, to let out sweet broken moans and whines as Dirk positions his legs and scoops up his face.

He stares up at Dirk, wide and wet-eyed, face completely open. His mouth hangs slack, letting sounds pour out unfettered as Dirk growls about how pretty it is, how he wants to put it to work warming and choking on his cock. All Kankri can do is whine, head tipping to press his cheek into one of Dirk's palms. _Seeking_ his touch, finding grounding in it instead of unbearable distress. He wants Dirk to touch him, to never stop touching him, to make sure absolutely no one else can lay a finger on him ever again.

Dirk shifts again, bracing his elbows on the mattress, and Kankri takes a deep, shuddering breath as he prepares himself to be fucked for real.

The first rough snap of Dirk's hips has him gasping, sharp _ah - ah - ah_ s leaking out as Dirk punches his dick deep with each thrust. Kankri's cock jumps between them, so fucking hard it's dark red, almost purple, and Kankri's thighs squeeze tight around Dirk's hips. He feels impossibly full, impossibly hot, so much pressure deep in his hips he thinks he'll burst or implode if he can't cum soon. He stares up at Dirk, watching his face as he groans, as he tells Kankri that he's _Dirk's,_ his pussy belongs to Dirk, that nobody else will touch him or use him like this but _Dirk._

His arms lift up, belt-bound wrists hooking behind Dirk's neck to hold him close as he keeps fucking into him, keeps fucking high, desperate noises out of Kankri's chest.

"Promise -" Kankri breathes, eyelids fluttering under Dirk's relentless pace, the unbearable and so incredible build of pleasure through his body, " - promise me."

Kankri makes such _pretty_ , fucked out noises as Dirk thrusts his cock into Kankri's wet pussy. Dirk is drowning in Kankri's expressions, in the open, helpless, overwhelmed look on Kankri's face.

He's surprised by Kankri hooking his arms around Dirk's neck and begging for Dirk to _promise_ him.

To promise that he's Dirk's. That he's _only_ Dirk's.

Holy fuck. The possessive fire that lights inside of Dirk's chest feels like he should be _burning_ up from the force of it.

"Oh, _baby_." Dirk purrs, leaning in and pressing his mouth to Kankri's jaw. "I fucking promise- not a single fucking person gets to rape you but _me_."

He slams his hips into Kankri and starts up a rough, rolling fuck, barely pulling out of Kankri with each motion.

"You're _my_ bitch, I fucking promise you that." Dirk growls. "I'll fucking kill anyone who touches you, my pretty little rape bait, my personal fucking slut- you want to be dicked down _so_ fucking bad but you can't ask for it- gotta have me pin you down and force you to take it, don't I?"

He sucks a rough mark onto Kankri's skin, high and visible- not even Kankri's sweaters will hide this one.

"You're a slut who can't give in unless you're forced," Dirk purrs. "Well, that's quite alright by me- all you gotta do is bat those pretty lashes of yours and I'll be slamming you against the nearest surface- don't even gotta get you naked, I'll just tug your fucking leggings down and slam my cock right into your pretty cunt."

God. What an idea. His own fucking rape bait, (un) willing to be dicked down whenever Dirk wants.

He promises. Dirk _promises_ Kankri no one else will ever touch him, will ever hold him down and hurt him again, and Kankri sobs in relief as Dirk growls against his skin how he'll _kill_ anyone who tries. He whines and moans shamelessly, nodding with Dirk's dick deep and rocking inside, Dirk's mouth pressed against him and voice rumbling how Kankri _needs_ Dirk to rape him, how Dirk will do it whenever Kankri gives the slightest flirtatious or coy look to him.

Kankri has never felt safer, more understood, more _seen_ than here - pinned to his bed with Dirk Strider raping him, Dirk Strider sucking his ownership into bruises on his skin, Dirk Strider promising that nobody else will ever have him like this, will ever make him feel scared and hurt and out of control again. Kankri's wrists twist, catching Dirk's hair in his fingers and holding tight as he moans high and desperate.

"Yes, _yes_ ," he pants, and realizes for the first time that he's been murmuring it all while Dirk was speaking, clinging desperately to and begging for everything Dirk tells him. "Yes, Dirk, please, I'm yours, I'm yours, _please_ , I - _hhhhn_ \- please - I feel -" he doesn't know how to describe what he feels, other than _full_ and _hot_ and _safe_ and _about to cum harder than he ever has in his fucking li_ _fe,_ but not even those words make it to his throat, instead only letting out another high moan as his eyes squeeze shut and his head drops back against the sheets.

"Yeah, you're fucking mine, you're all mine, baby," Dirk purrs, so fucking happy with Kankri's moaning and begging- he didn't even really need to use _any_ force, but here Kankri is, breaking apart, professing that he's _Dirk's_.

"You're my pretty little toy, my perfect little bitch- my slut, my goddamn slut- you'll spread your legs for me anytime I want-" the words fall from him as easy as breathing, hungry and cruel and maybe if he wasn't in this moment he would be horrified at how easily they come but Kankri is _begging_ , is clinging to him and wanting _more_ so Dirk doesn't feel anything but _right._

He leans in and seals their mouths together, messy and teeth clacking and rough, heaving breaths through his nose and gasps and it's _perfect_ because it's Kankri, it's his own personal rape toy to be used whenever he wants and Kankri is all _his_.

His, _his_ , his- Kankri is _his_ and it's like a drumbeat in his chest, knowing that now that he's had this, it can't ever be the same- he can't go back to wondering what Kankri tastes like and always holding himself back so carefully, he's not going to be able to let Kankri go.

He pulls back and stares down at Kankri, panting. "You going to cum?" He croons, "you getting close, baby? I can feel you, you're so fucking wet and tight around your rapist's cock, around the cock that's fucking you open. Are you going to cum like the dumb slut you are?"

"Yes, Dirk, yes," Kankri sobs, moans hitching out of him with each little adoring insult, each little proclamation of ownership, each thrust of Dirk's cock still pumping inside him. "I'm your slut, I'm your bitch, want you to keep using me, keep raping me -"

Dirk's mouth crashes into Kankri's, cutting him off, and Kankri makes a muffled wail into Dirk's mouth. Their teeth click painfully, it's messy and aggressive and Dirk is gasping and panting like an animal and Kankri takes it all, kisses Dirk back as best as he knows how, shakes around him and clings to him as if it could keep him together.

Dirk pulls back, spit dripping down his lip and shining across his mouth and Kankri's breath catches as Dirk pants above him. Jesus, he's beautiful. Dirk doesn't let up for a second, pace unrelenting as he taunts Kankri, working him closer and closer to the edge as he asks if Kankri is going to cum on the cock of his rapist.

"Yeah," Kankri pants, voice cracking as his back arches and squirms, thighs clenching tightly around Dirk's body. The pressure and heat between his hips is unbelievable, nowhere to go as Dirk's cock keeps building and building and building it; Kankri is ready to burst open, absolutely vibrating before the dam breaks.

His cunt squeezes fucking _hard,_ squirting down the front of Dirk's pants and cock jumping useless and dry as Kankri cums without touching it; his bound wrists yank in toward his body as he wails and cries and moans, jerking Dirk's head along with them to press against Kankri's soft, sweat-dappled chest.

"Dirk!" Kankri cries, a broken keen, a bubbling sob, a _guttural_ , needy sound, his body clutched into a shaking ball around his rapist, his best friend, the man he's in love with, the only person he trusts as much as his own brother. His Owner, his Master, his fucking safety and freedom from the bonds of his past.

He doesn't want to let go. How could he ever let Dirk go?

Kankri does it- Dirk doesn't even _touch_ his dick and he's cumming, he's making all these beautiful noises as he squeezes down on Dirk and _pulls him in_ and he's sobbing Dirk's name out and it's the most beautiful noise Dirk's ever heard, his beautiful little bitch moaning, sobbing his name as he cums for Dirk, cums as Dirk rapes him, cums as Dirk fucks him and marks him and _claims_ him.

He humps into Kankri's tight, squeezing pussy as his face is held against Kankri's chest, right between his soft, tiny breasts, panting and moaning.

"Fuck, fuck-" he gasps. "Fuck, Kankri- you're too goddamn perfect, too hot, too fucking rapeable- I'm never fucking letting you go, you're _mine_."

He manages to get his hands on Kankri's hips and use his grip as leverage to pound into Kanrki roughly, shoved close to the edge and ready to cum- he just needs a little more, just a bit more-

He slams in deep and groans as he cums, as he pumps Kankri's cunt full of his cum.

"Feel that?" Dirk asks breathlessly. "You're _mine._ "

Dirk doesn't let up, breath puffing into Kankri's chest as he keeps pounding his sensitive pussy, as his strong fingers dig into Kankri's soft hips, as he pants that Kankri is perfect and _his_ against his skin.

Kankri sobs, twitching in overstimulation but floating on the high of how fucking hard he just came, gasping as Dirk's wet pants smack against his skin as he chases his own pleasure. Kankri wants Dirk to use him, wants to make Dirk cum, to make him feel even half as good as he made Kankri feel.

"Please - I want it -" Kankri gasps, barely louder than a whisper, fingers raking through Dirk's hair like it's the only thing he wants to do, clings to Dirk's body with his legs like it would pain him for Dirk to pull away. Touching Dirk like it's never bothered him to.

"Oh - oh, my God?" Kankri stammers, shocked and shuddering in fresh pleasure as Dirk's cock pulses inside his cunt, his walls squeezing him in so tight that Kankri thinks he can feel every little twitch and jump as Dirk floods him with searing pump after searing pump of his cum. It's like nothing he's ever felt before. He's Dirk's, inside and out, marked and claimed and owned.

"I'm yours," he says, voice soft and almost distant, like his brain has just leaked out his ears onto the mattress, like he's having several concurrent realizations at once, like it's the only thing he could say, the only _important_ thing to say. "Dirk - I -"

Kankri lifts his wrists from behind Dirk's neck to grab his face awkwardly with bound-together hands. "Look," he says, laughing shaky and breathless through the word, jiggling Dirk's head a little to accentuate his point. " _Look_."

Dirk pants and shudders as he comes down from his orgasm and Kankri's voice is echoing in his ears, soft and startled. He shifts up as Kankri's arms release him only to jolt a little in surprise as Kankri grabs him.

It takes his sex-focused brain a moment to realize what's happening.

"You're... touching me." Dirk realizes.

Kankri is _touching him._

On _purpose_.

Dirk gives him a grin, shifting up on the bed to press a kiss to Kankri mouth.

"Would you look at that?" Dirk breathes. "Goddamn, baby, isn't that something?"

He presses another kiss to Kankri's mouth. He's still got his dick inside of him, so he carefully pulls back.

"You pretty little thing." Dirk murmurs. "Kankri, I'm keeping you. Okay? I'm fucking keeping you- you're mine now." He's serious, just enough lightness to his tone to make his words affectionate.

He's not letting Kankri go. Not after this.

Dirk just - he just _understands_ exactly what Kankri means, and what it means _to_ Kankri, and Kankri nods, grinning through his tears and laughing again. "I'm touching you," he agrees, then jokes: "I'm cured." He knows he's nothing of the sort, that his repulsion will probably edge back in, but he _does_ feel different, fuller, lighter. Healed, somehow. He hopes it doesn't come back, if only for Dirk. Nobody else can touch him, now, anyway.

Kankri meets each kiss Dirk presses to his lips, almost smiling too much to be able to kiss properly. His hands drop from Dirk's face to rest above his head again while Dirk shifts to pull out, drawing an involuntary whimper from Kankri as he adjusts to being empty again, as he starts to feel the soreness of being stretched open and fucked hard.

"Okay," he agrees, voice and eyes soft, just as genuine as he knows Dirk is. "I'm yours, Dirk, I promise. Keep me."

Kankri says _I'm yours_ and Dirk's heart throbs in his chest.

"Like you had any choice?" Dirk murmurs, but his grin is soft and fond. He presses a little kiss to Kankri's cheek, lingering and soft.

Kankri under him like this, soft in all the best places, is making a vicious kind of joy pulse through his chest. The kind of joy that he'd normally be slamming back and boxing up, but- Kankri's made it so he doesn't have to. Not right now.

"Here, lemme get that belt off you." Dirk says, pulling away enough to grab Kankri's wrists and undo the belt. He kisses each of Kankri's palms once his hands are free before leaning in to kiss Kankri again.

"Hey." Dirk asks, contemplative. "So, do you want me to just......... force you into more shit in the future?" He asks, cupping Kankri's face and rubbing his thumb over Kankri's cheekbone. "Open invitation kinda thing? Or what?"

Kankri laughs, gentle and soft but crinkling his eyes as Dirk jokes that Kankri has no choice but to be his. He doesn't have a choice, anyway. His heart left his own ownership willingly a while ago. Kankri hums in contentment, tipping his cheek into the press of Dirk's lips. The sensation of physical affection without pain or fear or panic is _insane,_ nothing but warmth and affection and heart-clenching sweetness and _God,_ Kankri doesn't want to lose it, doesn't want to have to go back to being starved and lonely.

"Thank you," Kankri murmurs as Dirk releases his wrists from the belt, kissing each of his palms with a reverence Kankri can only associate with faith before Dirk returns to his mouth, soft lips pressed to soft lips.

"Mm." Kankri drops his head back to rest as he contemplates Dirk's question, nudging his cheek against Dirk's touch again - incredible, _heavenly_ , to just be _allowed_ by his own body to do so - as he stares at the ceiling and thinks.

"With some forewarning, like tonight, yes," he says, eventually. "If you want to surprise me, though, we should come up with a way for me to be able to tell you I'm not ready for it. A signal, or something."

Dirk hums a little at Kankri's answer and carefully shifts so that he's not on top of Kankri anymore- but he wraps his arms around Kankri and tugs him in to have Kankri pressed along his side, head resting on Dirk's shoulder.

"That's easy enough." Dirk muses. "Something like a safeword but it only works for the first minute or something. That sounds simple enough."

Wow. He's going to get to do this again and again and _again_.

Kankri wants Dirk to keep raping him.

..... keep "raping" him? Whatever.

Point being that Dirk gets to fuck Kankri good and hard as long as he gives Kankri a quick out or forewaring.

He tilts Kankri's head up with a hand and presses their mouths together.

"You really are fucking perfect, Kankri." Dirk murmurs absent-mindedly as he pulls back.


	2. Chapter 2

Dirk moves to lie down, and Kankri barely has a chance to miss his solid warmth before he’s drawing Kankri in close and holding him to his side. Kankri eagerly fits himself up against Dirk, cheek resting in the dip between his shoulder and chest, hand gently stroking up and down Dirk’s stomach - he laughs a little, realizing for the first time that Dirk is still fully dressed as his shirt rucks up under his attentions.

“Yes,” Kankri agrees, though he can’t say he’s at full capacity to think about it right now, “like a safeword.” They can figure it out later - he leaves it at that.

He enjoys the quiet between them, the soft rise and fall of Dirk’s chest and stomach as he breathes; Kankri’s fingers curl to gently scritch where they rest, almost experimenting in the ways that he can just  _touch_ Dirk right now, as much as he can for as long as it lasts. Dirk touches his face, tilts his head up to kiss him again, and Kankri eagerly follows, pushing himself up into the gentle, sweet press of their lips.

“What do you mean?” Kankri laughs, soft and gentle and sweet as Dirk calls him _perfect_ , settling his head down onto Dirk’s shoulder again. Kankri’s hand slides across Dirk’s stomach to curl around his waist, holding him close and tight, thigh thrown across one of Dirk’s.

  
  


Dirk watches as Kankri willingly-  _willingly_ \- touches him, enjoying the press of Kankri’s elegant fingers. Dirk wonders if Kankri plays piano- he certainly has the hand shape of it.

“What do I mean?” Dirk parrots back, a touch surprised. He hums a little, pressing his mouth to the top of Kankri’s head as he tries to put it into words.

“Well, let’s see.” Dirk just starts listing off traits as they come to him, “you’re gorgeous, you can talk for hours on end about interesting subjects, you don’t ever try to force me to talk more or less than I feel like, you’re a creature of habit which is nice to be a part of, you like some of the same shit as me and, even if you don’t, you clearly enjoy hearing me talk about things I like…”

He chuckles softly and kisses the top of Kankri’s head.

“Oh yeah, and how could I forget- you came to me, unprompted, and asked me to rape you. That’s seriously fucking hot.” He murmurs into Kankri’s hair.

  
  


Kankri can’t help it - he scoffs a little as Dirk starts with  _gorgeous,_ but finds himself flushing and tucking his face further and further into Dirk’s chest the more he goes on. Dirk’s mouth gently moving as he murmurs into Kankri’s hair feels nice, and the sweet appreciation does too, if a little overwhelming.

Kankri laughs much less in disbelief and more in amusement when Dirk tacks  _asked to be raped_ onto the end of his list of Kankri’s ‘perfect’ qualities.

“You talk like I happened upon _your_ ideal fantasy,” he murmurs into Dirk’s chest, and then he pauses, blinking. Kankri pushes himself up to look at Dirk properly.

“I _did,_ didn’t I?” he says, realizing for the first time that this was more than just a chance for Dirk to get close to him, more than an unusual favor. “Dirk. Why didn’t you say so?”

  
  


Dirk really didn’t expect Kankri to pick up on that, so his face goes red, glancing away.

“Ah. Well.” He gives a little shrug. “It’s not really something that like… you can admit to, you know?”

Cause yeah, that’ll go over well.  _Hey I’ve fantasized about raping you, I think it’d be pretty hot to hold you down and force you into sex_ .

At best it gets him called a freak and any potential partners abandon him. At worst his life could probably be ruined and he’d be accused of actually  _being_ a rapist.

He lightly runs his fingers through Kankri’s curls. “Rape fantasies are only okay if you’re the one being raped and all that.” He mutters, just a touch bitter.

  
  


Kankri’s face softens instantly in understanding. Of  _course_ Dirk didn’t say anything. He couldn’t know what Kankri would have thought, even when Kankri was the one asking for the rape scene in the first place. The bitterness in his murmur about how it’s only alright to fantasize being the victim is obvious to Kankri - how long had Dirk had to keep it down, to feel ashamed, feel like a horrible person for what he wanted? It makes Kankri angry for him, angry over the double standards that make a good man like Dirk feel like a monster.

Kankri leans down, holding Dirk’s face between his hands to draw him back to facing Kankri, and he kisses Dirk firmly, decisively.

“It’s _okay_ ,” says Kankri, voice soft and insistent as he tips to gently press their foreheads together. "It’s okay. I know you would never hurt anyone. That’s why I asked _you._ "

  
  


Dirk is a bit surprised when Kankri grabs his face, moreso when Kankri kisses him firmly in response to his bitter words.

His gaze goes downcast, though, at Kankri’s words. He lets out a shuddering breath.

“Kinda paradoxical, don’t you think?” Dirk murmurs, but something in his chest is relieved at Kankri’s words. Kankri doesn’t think he’s a creep for _wanting_ to rape him, doesn’t think he’s gross or disgusting- and it’s a bit like putting slack in a rope that’s pulled so tight it’s threatening to snap.

Tension released.

He sighs softly.

“Thanks, Kankri.” He says, and runs a contemplative hand down Kankri’s side. “…what do you think, round two, baby?” He muses.

  
  


“Maybe,” Kankri smiles wryly, “but I think it’s logically consistent. You’re a good man, Dirk.” Kankri gently sweeps his thumbs back and forth over Dirk’s cheekbones. “It would have been so easy to get hurt worse seeking this out,” he continues, voice softer now. “You only made me feel safe.”

Dirk seems more relaxed, now, and Kankri settles back into his side, humming in fondness. “You’re welcome,” he says, nudging his nose gently against Dirk’s chest.

Dirk runs his hand down Kankri’s side, and Kankri shivers appreciatively. He hums again, thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against Dirk’s chest.

“I think yes,” he says. "While I know I can do _this,_ " Kankri elaborates, flattening his hand to Dirk’s chest to make his point.

“Do you want to rape me again, or just… how do they say it? ‘Vanilla?’” he asks, making quotes with his fingers. Sex is not his area of expertise.

  
  


_You made me feel safe_ .

Dirk’s heart melts at those words. He finds himself huffing a laugh, though, at Kankri’s air quotes.

“Well, lemme think, babe.” Dirk says, and lets his hand trail down Kankri’s back. “Not gonna lie, was kinda looking forwards to fucking your ass.”

With that, he rolls them abruptly so that he’s pinning Kankri to the bed again, grabbing his chin roughly.

"So are you going to be a good little rape bait or am I going to have to be  _rough?_ " Dirk purrs, leaning in so their mouths are inches apart.

  
  


Kankri isn’t surprised that Dirk laughs at his question- he’s aware it sounded silly, and he doesn’t care. He likes making Dirk laugh, anyway.

“Oh,” says Kankri, back arching as Dirk’s fingers run down it. “I’ve never put anything in - oh!” Dirk rolls them before he can finish his sentence, pinning Kankri underneath him and holding his face firmly.

“I’ll be good,” Kankri whispers, eyes already heavy-lidded just from being put in his place, beneath Dirk where he belongs. He leaves his hands resting on the bed beside his head, making no move without Dirk’s permission, but his head still tilts up, trying to meet Dirk as he leans closer, and he asks: “Do I get to see you?”

  
  


Dirk watches Kankri already sinking back into that heady, soft space and grins. The question makes him lean in so that their mouths are a hairs width apart.

“As long as you’re a good little bitch,” Dirk murmurs, “you can have anything you want.”

He laughs, letting the tone slide more towards mockery.

“As long as that’s what _I_ want.” He growls, and then he seals their lips together, biting at Kankri’s lower lip and working it over with his teeth.

His hands drag down Kankri’s sides, nails just enough to leave lightly stinging marks over the soft flesh.

It’s easy enough to press himself back between Kankris legs and- fuck, Kankri’s still got his matching bra and panties on. That’s stupid fucking hot, the fact that Kankri  _dressed up for Dirk raping him_ , Dirk almost hates to take his panties off.

But first-

“Hey, bitch.” Dirk purrs, breaking the kiss. “My cock got pretty dirty from fucking you, I think you better make it up to me by getting it nice and clean.”

He rolls his hips against Kankri, letting him feel how Dirk’s cock is starting to get stiff again.

“What do you think, should I fuck that pretty face of yours into the bed?”

  
  


Kankri’s breath catches with Dirk so close, lips just barely brushing together as Dirk tells him he just needs to be a good bitch for him. Yes,  _God_ yes, Kankri can do that. Even Dirk’s cruel laugh only serves to drop Kankri deeper into that thick, heavy headspace, where he’s owned, just a toy to be used by his rapist.

Dirk kisses him rough, all tenderness pushed aside as he bites and sucks and drags Kankri’s lip through his teeth, and Kankri whimpers against his mouth at the sharp sensation, the light stinging prickle of Dirk’s nails dragging down his sides that makes him shiver. Kankri’s legs easily fall open to let Dirk slot between them again, gasping against his mouth as Dirk presses against him with his hardening cock.

Kankri’s hips press up, whining sweet, seeking more pressure as Dirk grinds into him, tells him he needs to clean Dirk’s cock before he can rape Kankri again. He nods, whimpering soft and desperate, hips still rocking as he gasps and answers Dirk’s taunting question without even considering his words: “Yes, Master.”

  
  


Kankri is so sweet, so pliable and willing underneath him but it’s when he gasps  _Master_ that Dirk pauses.

Holy fuck that’s so fucking hot.

“That’s right.” Dirk purrs, clambering up the bed, straddling Kankri’s waist, cock resting between Kankri’s pretty tits. “You’re my pretty little bitch, my dumb slut, my little rape bait- and I’m your _Master_. You don’t get to say no to me.”

His hands sink into Kankri’s hair and tug his head back for a moment, making him feel the strain.

“You’re my own personal cocksucker, my human fleshlight, you exist as nothing more than a _toy_ for me to use, to pin down and cum into whenever I want.” The words _pour_ from Dirk’s mouth, dropping down onto Kankri, and then he’s pulling Kankri’s head _up_ and hooking a thumb into his mouth with an, “open up, _bitch_ ,” and he leans in and _spits_ into Kankri’s mouth.

" _Thank me._ " Dirk purrs.

  
  


Dirk pauses, and for a moment, Kankri worries he’s said something wrong. Master was a  _lot_ to put on Dirk out of nowhere, he should have asked before -

_Oh._ Dirk starts talking, low and rumbling the way he has when he’s been  _pleased_ as he shifts up to sit on Kankri’s waist, cock laid out on his chest. “Yes,” he breathes, relieved and agreeing as Dirk tells him what he is, calls  _himself_ Kankri’s Master, reminds him he’s not allowed to say no.

He cries sharp as Dirk snatches his hair and yanks his head back, delicious pain in his scalp, his throat stretched out and strained and exposed, and he swallows in anticipation as more and more degradation spills from Dirk’s mouth. He’s his Master’s toy, just a set of holes for him to fuck. Whether he’s willing or not doesn’t matter.

Dirk yanks his head up and forces his mouth open with a growled instruction that he gave Kankri no chance to follow willingly, and Kankri flinches and fucking  _gushes_ between his legs as Dirk  _spits in his mouth._ Holy shit. He stares up at Dirk wide-eyed, holding Dirk’s spit in his mouth until his Master releases him with an instruction to speak.

He closes his mouth. He swallows. He speaks. “Thank you, Master.”

  
  


Kankri actually does it, flushed and wide-eyed and yes. Dirk is so fucking hard, he’s so goddamn turned on watching Kankri  _swallow his fucking spit_ and Kankri  _fucking thanks him._

Thanks him for spitting on him. For  _giving Kankri his spit to swallow._

“That’s a perfect little toy.” Dirk breathes. “So goddamn perfect for me, come here, gonna clean up your Master’s cock so goddamn perfectly.”

He slips up more and sees that Kankri  _still has his fucking hands above his head on the bed_ and that’s making him-

Holy shit. He’s going to have to keep a running fucking tally of the list of ideas he’s got swarming in his head.

He pulls Kankri’s head up a little bit by the hair and grabs his dick and presses the tip of his Dick to Kankri’s mouth and slowly presses his hips forwards. “Fuck.” Dirk groans as he sinks his cock into Kankri’s mouth, settling the head on Kankri’s tongue. “I fucking knew it, I knew those pretty cocksucker lips would be good for  _something_ .”

  
  


Kankri could swear he can feel Dirk get harder between his tits as he swallows, as he says thank you, and, fuck, that feels nice. To know that he does that to Dirk, that he’s so good for his Master.

Dirk confirms just seconds later, calling Kankri his perfect toy, and Kankri can’t help but brighten with the praise. Dirk shifts closer, hips right in front of Kankri’s face, his hard, juice-coated cock up close and personal. Fuck, it’s pretty.

Master pulls Kankri’s head up to line up with the head of his cock, and Kankri swears he can smell himself on Dirk’s dick as his mouth drops open to accept it. He’s never sucked cock - it goes without saying, given his aversion. He can  _definitely_ taste himself on Dirk’s skin as he sinks into his mouth; Dirk stops before he gets too deep, before Kankri can’t handle it, so Kankri wraps his lips around his Master’s cock, gently nursing on it while his tongue goes to work, sweeping everywhere he can reach to clean up his juices like he was told.

It’s an awkward, uncomfortable position for his neck, arms shifting a little lower just to take the strain off his shoulders. Still, he whines around Dirk’s cock, hungry and appreciative as Dirk praises his mouth. Slowly, his hands move from their place on the bed, trailing up Dirk’s knees to grip his thighs, to hold his Master while he cleans off his cock.

  
  


Kankri opens up so fucking perfectly for him. Dirk is cradling his head in place and he really really wants to just buck his hips forwards and make Kankri gag on his dick but he has no idea how sensitive Kankri’s gag reflex and he’s really not into puke so- better not, for now.

Kankri fucking  _suckles_ on his cock, though, mouthing around it gently, licking it clean with a fucking touch that feels  _worshipful_ . His hands come up and settle on Dirk’s thighs, a warm touch that Dirk allows him to have.

“That’s right, my pretty little rape bait.” Dirk murmurs, looking down at Kankri. “Get me nice and clean- how does it feel, to be cleaning up and sucking on the cock that raped your pretty pussy open? I bet you love it- you’re finding your purpose, after all, underneath me, worshipping my cock and here to be _fucked_.”

Dirk laughs softly as he rocks the tip of his cock into Kankri’s mouth. “I could slam my cock in right now.” He coos. “I could stuff it down your throat and  _choke_ you on it, just fuck your head into the bed and make you gag on me. You wouldn’t be able to do  _anything_ , you’d have to let me rape your throat open, choke you out- does that get you hard, you pathetic slut? Does the idea of that get you fucking  _gushing_ , that I could hump your fucking face until you passed out?”

  
  


Kankri looks up at Dirk as he starts to talk again, locking onto his stare and his voice as he sucks and licks the cock in his mouth. Kankri whines soft affirmatives to Dirk’s words - yes, it feels  _amazing_ to have the cock that raped him in his mouth. Yes, he loves it. He loves worshipping his Master’s cock, loves his Master showing him his purpose as his little rape toy.

Dirk starts to gently rock his hips, and Kankri presses his tongue up underneath his cock, dragging against it as his Master rocks back and forth. Kankri’s eyelids flutter as Dirk says he could choke Kankri with his cock right now, fuck deep into his throat - Kankri’s cock  _does_ jump, his cunt  _does_ leak as his Master teases him for it, mocks him for being so turned on by the idea of choking on Dirk’s cock until he blacks out, so turned on by the way Dirk says it all in a gentle, mocking affection.

Kankri squeezes where he’s holding Dirk’s thighs, the only way with his mouth full of cock that he can say  _yes,_ that he can say  _claim all my holes, they’re all for you,_ that he can say  _please, Master._

  
  


Kankri squeezes at his thighs and he’s looking up at Dirk with a hazy, flushed expression- and Dirk can only take that to mean  _yes, please- rape my throat._

Jesus. Okay. Yes.

“I wonder how much you’ll take before you start to choke?” Dirk purrs. Kankri is licking and tonging over him eagerly, so he doesn’t feel bad in the slightest for shifting even closer, his knees on either side of Kankri’s head. He grips Kankri’s hair tightly with both hands, lowers his head to press it into the bed-

And starts moving his hips in, slowly feeding Kankri more of his cock. He wants to savor every little moment.

“Come on, slut- show your master what you’re good for.” Dirk purrs, keeping Kankri’s head down, he can’t go _anywhere_. “I want to see you gag on my cock, every fucking inch, baby. I bet this is your first dick to rape your pretty mouth- which means that your throat virginity is all fucking mine, bitch.”

Okay, maybe that sounds a little bit weird thinking about it- but the idea of Kankri’s first deepthroat being a rape, being  _Dirk raping him_ \- that’s so fucking hot.

  
  


Thank God, Dirk just understands what Kankri’s little signals mean, what Kankri  _needs_ . Kankri lets his hands slip off of Dirk’s thighs as he adjusts to kneel right over Kankri’s head, arms looping underneath to hold his thighs from behind instead. Dirk presses his head down, holds his hair so tightly that Kankri’s eyes already start to flutter again - and slowly, slowly starts pressing forward, sinking his beautiful dick deeper into Kankri’s mouth.

Kankri moans, shameless, around Dirk’s cock as he calls himself Kankri’s Master again, as he tells Kankri how much he wants to see him gag and choke, how he’s taking Kankri’s throat and making it  _his._ Kankri opens his mouth as wide as he can, lips open as Dirk slowly fucks his way inside.

His tongue slides forward as his throat makes its first heave of protest, eyebrows crumpling with effort as his head tries to jerk backward on instinct, barely pressing back into the mattress before he has no more give to go anywhere. His fingers dig into Dirk’s thighs as he takes a heavy breath through his nose, as if to say  _keep moving._

  
  


Dirk’s cock presses deep enough that Kankri gags, but there’s nowhere for Kankri to go and Dirk’s cock most certainly doesn’t go anywhere either.

The pressure of it is  _incredible._ The wet, moving sensation of the entrance of Kankri’s throat against his tip- Dirk groans low in his throat.

“Already trying to push your rapist’s cock out?” He says breathlessly. “Too fucking bad- you’re mean to be a cocksucking little bitch so you better learn how to do your job.”

He presses his hips forwards more, fingers  _tight_ in Kankri’s hair, keeping him pinned- and slowly, deliberately slow, he wants to feel every fucking second- he presses the tip of his dick into Kankri’s throat, watching his face with a rapt, malicious kind of glee.

The head of his cock slips into Kankri’s throat and Dirk moans as it’s squeezed- and then yanks his hips back and pulls it free, popping the head out with a vicious tug.

  
  


Dirk holds Kankri down more firmly, fists tugging his hair and making him moan even as he keeps pressing his cock deeper against the resistance of his throat. It’s slow, painfully slow, letting Kankri continue to gag and choke as Dirk presses past the fight in his muscles. Kankri’s feet kick, scrabbling against the sheets, chest lifting and pressing up against Dirk’s weight as his throat makes awful, ugly sounds, as his eyes well up and spill over.

Then, suddenly - Dirk jerks back, the head of his cock popping painfully free with an ugly  _hhrrk_ and causing Kankri to cough and gasp around his cock, face streaked with tears.

  
  


“Aw, did that hurt?” Dirk coos, taking one hand and thumbing over Kankri’s wet cheek. “I’m sure it did- and I hope you’re ready for it to hurt a _lot_ more.”

He sinks his hand back into Kankri’s hair and shoves his hips forwards again- shoving the tip of his cock right into Kankri’s throat again, no slowness about it.

He groans in delight at the squeeze and the constriction and the sensation of Kankri’s body trying to shove his dick out. He pulls his hips back again, tugging his head free- and then in it goes again, just the tip, over and over. Just fucking Kankri’s throat open, reveling in his tears, in his pained noises and wet, sloppy ones.

There’s such a hungry, vicious feeling in his chest as Dirk repeats this a couple more times, just ruthlessly forcing Kankri’s throat to submit, to let him shove his cock in until Dirk is satisfied and he pulls back all the way.

“I’m a nice fucking person,” Dirk purrs as he keeps one hand in Kankri’s hair, fisting his cock and stroking it slowly, hovering an inch above Kankri’s face, “so I’ll let you breathe for a minute. Hurts a lot to get your throat raped, doesn’t it? I love seeing you cry like the fucking bitch you are- I’m going to shove my entire cock down your throat and make you _choke_ on it.”

He shifts his hips forwards more so that his balls are brushing against Kankri’s chin and then resting over his mouth.

“So why don’t you thank me for raping you by paying your rapist’s balls some nice attention?” Dirk says. “These are the balls pumping you full of cum, after all, they deserve some thanks for their hard work of filling you up and turning you into a dumb cumslut.”

  
  


Kankri knows full well that Dirk is making fun of him, but he still nods that it hurt, still presses into the soft sweep of his Master’s touch to his cheek. It doesn’t last - Kankri breathes in heavily in preparation as Dirk grasps his hair again.

It’s not slow this time - Kankri chokes, gagging over and over as Dirk fucks steadily into his throat. Sobs bubble up and cough their way out in the bare moments of reprieve before Dirk’s cock forces its way back in. Kankri struggles even with his eyes rolled back and streaming, palms smacking against Dirk’s thighs, back bowing and feet kicking.

Dirk finally pulls all the way out; Kankri coughs and gasps, drool coating his mouth and dripping over his face as Dirk strokes his soaking shaft above him. One of Dirk’s hands keeps Kankri grounded, keeps him pinned in place, as he slowly catches his breath, slowly test swallows. The back of his throat already feels sore, bruised, but he knows his Master isn’t done.

Kankri gasps and shudders as Dirk shifts, dragging his balls through the thick drool on his chin to rest on his mouth with the instruction to give them attention. Kankri nods gently underneath him, shivering as he opens up, tongue poking out to lathe over Dirk’s skin.

The heavy scent and taste of Dirk’s musk is everywhere in his senses, and Kankri can only shudder out a little moan as he licks thoroughly over his Master’s balls before sucking one into his mouth, gently nursing and dragging his tongue against it just like he did with Dirk’s cock before. Kankri’s dark eyes watch Dirk from behind his eyelashes, behind the heavy cock in front of his face; he needs to know if he’s doing well, if he’s pleasing his Master.

  
  


Jesus, Kankri’s so fucking pretty when he cries.

Watching Kankri struggle and choke on his cock has got to be the prettiest fucking thing Dirk’s ever seen. The desperation in his spasms, the thick, wet noises forced from his throat, the heady flush in his face- it’s all so  _goddamn_ pretty.

Dirk thinks he might be able to do this for hours. Actually, he definitely could do this for hours- and he’s going to, someday. Someday he’s just going to make Kankri suck him off and get facefucked and choke on his dick for an entire fucking afternoon.

Dirk groans in enjoyment, low in his throat, as Kankri obediently starts to lick and suck on his balls. It’s such a  _base_ fucking heady pleasure, getting them worshipped- and that’s what Kankri is doing, giving them attention even as tears pour down his face.

“That’s a good slut.” Dirk croons. “You know your fucking place- you’re made to make your master feel good, made to worship every inch of your rapist.”

He lets Kankri work his balls over until they’re practically coated in spit- then he’s pulling back and lining up his cock again.

“Time for the real thing, slut.” Dirk growls. “Open those pretty lips nice and wide.”

He shoves his cock into Kankri’s mouth once more, spearing past the entrance to Kankri’s throat- and this time, he keeps going. He presses his hips forwards, forcing Kankri’s throat to submit, to accept his dick, not giving him a single fucking moment of leeway, just pushing in and in until he’s hilted to the base, until his wet balls are bumping against Kankri’s chin.

Dirk  _groans_ at the sensation, at his entire dick being choked and gagged around, Kankri’s throat muscles rippling and squeezing as they try to force Dirk out.

He deliberately counts to five in his head, nice and slow, and then pulls back and all the way out.

“What a _good fucking bitch_.” Dirk breathes. "Damn. You really are a natural fucking cocksucker- and you’re all fucking _mine._ "

  
  


The soft encouragement Dirk gives as Kankri worships his balls makes his eyes go fuzzy, out of focus; he’s so peaceful, lying here without the need to think, only to do what he’s made to. He gently pushes the ball he’s working on out of his mouth to give the other the same gentle, mindless attention, drawing it into his mouth to suck on until his Master tells him to stop.

Dirk pulls back eventually, because of course, he isn’t finished - Kankri presses a kiss to Dirk’s balls as they leave, then opens up obediently as Dirk lines up his cock again. Nice and wide, his Master says, so he drops his jaw as far as it will go, tongue laid over his lower lip.

He plunges right in, deep and unyeilding, all the way to the hilt; Kankri shakes and cries as he tries to hold back the urge to gag, but he can’t help it; his throat flexes and spasms, his stomach heaves, his body twitches and writhes with the sensations. His nose is pressed right up against Dirk’s body, Dirk’s balls lay against his chin - surrounded by him as he struggles. An involuntary shout of pain and fear dies in his throat as a wet, strangled gag, completely blocked by his Master’s cock.

It can’t have been that long, because Kankri doesn’t feel starved for air, doesn’t feel the threat of unconsciousness at the edges of his haze, but it feels like  _ages,_ like torture, like he’s going to painfully heave and gag forever before Dirk pulls back out to let Kankri splutter and cough, to sob unrestrained like a child while Dirk praises him.

" _Master,_ " Kankri cries, voice wrecked and hoarse, hands grabbing wherever he can reach - at Dirk’s thighs, his hips, fisting in his shirt, desperate for something that he can’t identify. "Master, it  _hurts._ "

  
  


Kankri’s sobbing and clutching at him- and there’s a vicious, pleased hunger at Kankri’s distress that’s building in Dirk’s chest- but there’s a soft voice whispering  _enough, that’s enough, don’t push him too far_ in the back of Dirk’s head.

Dirk should probably listen to that voice.

“Aw, baby.” Dirk murmurs, relaxing his grip on Kankri’s hair to pet over it instead, cup Kankri’s face, thumb at his tears. “It hurts, huh? Yeah, that’s what happens when a dumb slut gets throat raped. You were awfully good, though- you took your master’s cock so fucking well for your first fucking time.”

He grins down at Kankri, tilting his head up a little, still rubbing his thumbs over Kankri’s cheeks.

“You’ll always remember your first time with a dick in your throat-” Dirk coos, “-as your master raping you, taking what he wants, making it _hurt_. Isn’t that delightful? Doesn’t that just fill you with so much fucking shame, you pretty fucking cocksucking rape bait? Your precious first time sucking a cock- and you got stuffed full of so much cock like a dumb fucking bitch that it hurt.”

  
  


Kankri keeps clutching Dirk’s shirt, chest hiccuping through his tears as he tries to breathe. Dirk releases his iron grip on Kankri’s hair, gently petting him and cradling his face and smoothing his tears away while he talks softly. Kankri clings to his Master’s gentle tones, slowly taking in deeper, shaky breaths as he’s praised. He did good, he took his Master’s cock raping his throat so well, he made his Master feel so good.

Slowly, his sobbing subsides to little hitches of breath, his crumpled expression smoothing out as he listens to Dirk talk to him, voice like he’s talking to a little baby but his words so fucking filthy. Kankri whines, the sound rattling through his wrecked throat and coming out broken. He can feel himself dripping, and he isn’t sure if it’s his own slick from being talked down to in such saccharine tones or Dirk’s cum that’s been forced out from gagging so violently that every single one of his muscles spasmed while his throat was being fucked.

Kankri tugs at Dirk’s shirt, needy; he wants contact, reassurance, wants Dirk’s weight pressed to every inch of him. He wants Dirk inside, wants Dirk to fuck him hard and wants Dirk to fuck him slow and soft, wants to be forced to take it either way, forced to cum, wants Dirk to hold him down safe and secure and never let him go. Kankri can’t find the words to say any of it, but he tries his best.

“Master,” he starts, voice keening high, “hold me. Use me. Use - use your toy, your rape toy, I need - I _need_ -” Kankri cuts off, face twisting in frustration. Instead of finishing with words, normally an endless resource for him, he draws one hand from balling in Dirk’s shirt to press the heel of it firmly to his chest, pushing down then thumping it against his chest as if to punctuate what he means. _Pressure._

  
  


Kankri whines and there’s a raspy, broken edge to it and he’s tugging at Dirk’s shirt.

He wants to be  _used._ Wants to be helpless and used and his words are failing him but Dirk gets the gist of it. “Oh, baby.” He croons, watching Kankri gesture. “You pretty little bitch- don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He shifts to slip down the bed again, sprawling out on top of Kankri, his cock pressing against Kankri’s belly once more.

“That’s right, Kankri, you need your master’s cock, need it to rape you open nice and good.” Dirk purrs, putting over Kankri’s hair as he grinds his hips slowly. “Your master is going to work that tight ass of yours open and _ruin_ it on his dick.”

He smooths Kankri’s bangs back and leans in, kissing him with biting nips to Kankri’s lower lip.

“You pretty fucking bitch.” Dirk growls. “How could I ever fucking resist you, my own personal rape bait?”

He hums a little.

“I could fuck you dry.” He muses. “Really make you fucking feel it, force you open on my dick with just your spit for lube.”

He laughs softly, all of his weight pressing Kankri into the bed.

“I could make your first time in the ass _hurt_ , Kankri.” Dirk croons. “Rape you until you’re broken and _used_. I’m not going to, I don’t want to _completely_ ruin you yet- but I _could._ Aren’t I so nice for not ruining your ass?”

  
  


Kankri makes a pitiful little sound in relief as Dirk stretches out on top of him, weight pressing over every inch of his body. Kankri wraps his arms around Dirk, hands fisting tightly in the back of his shirt and whimpering softly as Dirk gently rocks his cock against him.

Kankri’s head tips back, eyes slipping shut as Dirk pets him, as his voice turns soothing.

“Yes, I need it,” he whispers, hips slowly starting to rock in time with Dirk’s rhythm. The kiss surprises Kankri just a little, making him jump, but he just as easily melts into it, makes pretty rattling sounds as his Master nips and bites him.

Kankri’s breath catches, body shuddering as his Master starts to talk about how he could really hurt Kankri, how he could take his ass dry and completely shatter him on the pain of being forced open by Dirk’s fat cock. He says he won’t, says  _aren’t I so nice?_ and Kankri can only nod, fervently.

“Yes, Master,” he breathes, “thank you, Master, I’ll - I’ll be so good, you won’t regret it.” As if to prove his point, to prove his worth as Dirk’s pretty little rape toy who can’t and _won’t_ say no, he presses his hips up, grinding his little cock against the weight of Dirk’s with a broken little moan.

  
  


God, Kankri pushes up against him and thanks him and promises to be  _good_ \- Dirk can feel how hard Kankri is, how turned on he’s getting and that just makes it even fucking  _better_ .

“Good.” Dirk says. “Then spread those fucking whore legs for me.”

He retrieves his pants (which had gotten kicked off at some point, he couldn’t really remember when) and grabs the couple of lube packets he had stored in his back pocket (just in case) and settles between Kankri’s legs, shoving them open wider.

He closes his hand over the bulge of Kankri’s cock and squeezes roughly, grinding his hand against Kankri’s dick.

“So fucking slutty.” Dirk purrs. “So goddamn eager to be raped and used by your master-” He lets go and shoves his knuckles against the soaked fabric covering Kankri’s cunt, grinding a little bit to give him a hint of stimulation, “-that you’re fucking _gushing_. How lucky of me to possess such a pretty toy.”

He hums a little and then grabs Kankri’s legs and folds them up towards Kankri’s chest, letting them fall apart enough for Kankri to see between them.

“Hold your legs up.” Dirk orders. “I want you fucking _presenting_ yourself to me, offering that pretty ass of your up to be fucking _raped_.”

He lets go and yanks Kankri’s panties up- just enough to expose his ass, his dick still mostly covered by fabric. Dirk leans in, spits onto Kankri’s hole, and then takes his thumb and massages over the tight ring of muscle.

“Here we go, bitch.” Dirk murmurs and presses his thumb in with just the hint of moisture to ease the way- so not much at all. “Open up nice and pretty for your master.”

  
  


“Yes, Master,” Kankri breathes, knees bent and falling open and hands falling to rest beside his head again as Dirk gets up to look through his pants. He waits, open and vulnerable, until his Master returns, pressing his thighs open wider.

Kankri gasps and moans, almost pained, as Dirk squeezes his cock and grinds his hand against it through the mesh of his panties. He’s panting when Dirk lets go, only to make another high, sudden moan with Dirk’s knuckles grinding up against his dripping cunt. “Fuck,” he gasps, face flushing.

Kankri grunts softly as Dirk folds him in half, and, obediently, he reaches up to hold his legs with another  _yes, Master,_ fingers curled behind his thighs just above the knee. His thighs press into his sides, pushing his tiny tits forward and up, almost as much presented for his Master as his ass.

Dirk barely takes his panties off; his dick is still trapped, the band pressing across his pussy. Kankri bites his lip in nervous anticipation as Dirk leans in, twitches in surprise as Dirk  _spits_ on him, shudders and whimpers as Dirk’s thumb rubs over his hole.

It feels so weird, and Kankri can’t help his nerves; Dirk gives him a small warning before starting to press his thumb inside, mostly dry, and Kankri gasps sharply through his teeth and tenses and twitches at the burn of the drag, at the odd sensation of his ass being filled for the first time. His fingers curl into his thighs, gripping tight as his eyes squeeze shut - he’s a  _good_ rape toy, he’s going to keep holding himself open for his Master to violate him, he’s not going to drop his legs or try to push away like his impulses are begging to. He can take it, he has no choice but to take it.

  
  


Kankri gasps and Dirk can feel his hole flexing around his thumb, can feel the tight, dry drag of it.

“You’re such a fucking slut.” Dirk purrs. “Your master’s going to rape your fucking ass and you’re just spreading your legs so willingly without even a _single_ protest? Incredible.”

He laughs, his other hand coming up to lightly clap against one of Kankri’s cheeks.

“You really are the perfect little rape bait.” Dirk croons, slowly wiggling his thumb inside of Kankri’s hole. “Fight and fuss and _flounce_ yourself, spurning everyone- but the moment I got you on your back you went belly up, _presenting_ yourself like a whore and ready to be fucked.”

Dirk reaches for a lube packet and tears it open with his teeth.

“It’s incredible, really.” He murmurs as he dribbles some cold lube onto Kankri’s hole, over his thumb, slowly twisting it and turning it to spread the lube, gently fucking his thumb in and out of Kankri. “Just a airheaded little fuck toy.” He lightly claps Kankri’s cheek again. “I want to hear you say it, slut.” Dirk orders.

  
  


Of course, Dirk starts to mock Kankri for doing exactly what Dirk told him to; Kankri startles, not expecting the light pap on his ass, tensing around Dirk’s thumb and then squirming under the strange feeling as Dirk wiggles it.

Kankri’s feet kick just a bit as his Master calls him perfect and calls him names in the same breaths; the way he keeps getting hit by praise and degradation simultaneously keeps him hard while Dirk slowly works his hole open. He shivers as the cold lube hits his skin, starts to whine and moan softly as it eases the drag of Dirk’s thumb fucking into him.

Kankri’s Master gently smacks his ass again, gives him an order to follow, and Kankri whines at the sting.

“I’m - I’m a slut,” he breathes, face and chest flushing deep, “I’m rape bait, I’m _your_ rape bait, I’m your whore, Master, your fuck toy.” Kankri whines again, pulling his lip between his teeth, nails pressing into his thighs.

“I need - I need to be raped, Master, I need you to rape me.” Kankri’s eyes squeeze shut again, flushed and embarrassed.

  
  


Kankri begs so prettily, flushes so dark with embarrassment, and the way his mouth shapes the words makes them somehow  _incredibly_ filthy and also so so innocent.

“You got it, slut.” Dirk croons. “Good job asking so prettily- I’ll give you what you need, your Master will rape this pretty little hole of yours until it’s sloppy and used.”

He’s slowly pumping his thumb in and out of Kankri’s hole, crooking it and tugging on his rim, getting him to relax and open up.

“I just gotta open you up first, baby, otherwise this’ll _hurt_ and as fun as that is, as much as I love seeing you cry so pretty and _messy_ for me- I don’t want you hurting here, not like this.” Dirk purrs. “I don’t want you torn and broken- that’s not any fun.”

He slips his thumb free, coats his fingers, and presses two of them into Kankri.

“So loosen up, Kankri.” Dirk growls, slowly pumping his two fingers into Kankri. “You want to be raped so fucking badly? You can put in some work for it.”

  
  


Kankri whimpers out a soft  _thank you, Master,_ little cock jumping obviously as Dirk says the word ‘rape’ again; his head drops back against the bed, unable to keep looking down his body to see Dirk working between his legs, embarrassed and sore in the neck. His eyes slip shut, sinking into the feeling of Dirk working his ass open, the sound of his Master’s voice, gentle whimpers and whines working up his throat.

Kankri gasps, whining high and hips twitching as Dirk pulls his thumb out and replaces it with two fingers; this time the stretching burn is accompanied by the smooth glide of the lube, and it feels  _good._ He gasps and moans as Dirk starts fucking him with his fingers, mouth dropped open and eyebrows tight, hips starting up little rocks back into Dirk’s rhythm.

“Yes, Master, I’m trying, I’m, _hhaaaah,_ please -”

  
  


Kankri’s noises are so desperate and pretty and how the hell would Dirk be able to deny him  _anything_ when he sounds like  _that?_

“I know you are, you pretty thing.” Dirk croons. “So eager to be raped, to have your Master’s cock shoved into you, wanting to be fucked open and turned into your Master’s eager little slut-”

He works a third finger into Kankri and continues his litany of filth.

“Why, you’re opening up so fucking perfectly for me it’s hard to believe you’re a virgin here- you’re such an eager, slutty piece of rape bait it’s impossible to consider the idea that you haven’t been touched like this- surely someone would have pulled you into their bed and raped your whore ass open, but-”

Dirk laughs and claps a hand against Kankri’s other untouched cheek, squeezing it firmly as he shoves his fingers all the way in.

" _No,_ you’re all fucking mine- I’m the  _only_ one who gets to touch you like this." Dirk purrs. He fucks his fingers forcefully in and out of Kankri’s ass.

“So lemme hear you say it, Kankri- I want to hear you beg for me to rape you and take your anal virginity like the whore you are- beg your Master to rape your hungry little hole.”

  
  


Kankri’s breaths are panting, desperate; unable to control his noises as Dirk fucks another one of his fingers inside of him, he lets little short whines and moans free as they come. He’d never considered doing this before on his own, never considered that it could feel good, but now he can’t think of anything but how much he wants Dirk inside him and fucking him absolutely stupid.

“Please, Master!” It comes out louder, more desperate and insistent than he means it to, legs shaking minutely and toes curling with Dirk’s hand squeezing his ass cheek, his fingers roughly fucking into him, getting him ready to be raped. "Please, Master, please rape me, please rape my ass, claim my holes, make me all yours, use me until I’m stupid and drooling and messy, _please!_ "

His noises are almost sobbing and teary, hips now earnestly rocking into the rough thrusts of Dirk’s fingers,  _needing_ more, needing everything Dirk is willing to force into him.

  
  


Kankri begs and begs  _loudly_ and begs  _sluttily_ . It’s exactly what Dirk wants to hear so he  _laughs_ and fucks his fingers a couple more times into Kankri roughly.

“I’ll give it to you, you pretty rape bait.” Dirk purrs and pulls his fingers out non-too-gently. He shifts into place, slicks himself up, wipes his dirty hand on the sheets (sorry, Kankri- he’ll wash them later), and then he’s rolling his hips forwards and sinking his cock into Kankri’s ass.

It’s such a different feeling from his cunt- it’s tight and clenching and hot- and Dirk groans in his throat as he shoves his way into Kankri.

“Fuu-uuck, Kankri-” Dirk breathes. “You’re so _fucking_ tight, goddamn- you’re my stupid little whore, my slutty fucking bitch, so pretty and rapeable- all _mine_.”

  
  


All of Dirk’s motions are aggressive, even the way he laughs feels pointed and harsh in the best of ways; Kankri makes an unpretty sound as Dirk yanks his fingers out of his hole, promising to finally replace them with his cock.

Kankri’s fingers dig hard into the backs of his knees, feeling oddly empty without Dirk’s fingers holding him open. Fortunately, his Master doesn’t let him go too long without being filled - in almost no time, the blunt head of his slick cock is pressing against his hole and then pressing its way inside.

It feels so  _different_ than having his cunt filled; he can tell immediately he won’t be able to cum from being fucked like this alone, but that almost makes it better. His ass is just for his Master to rape and use, to take his pleasure from. The pleasure Kankri  _does_ get from it is dulled, like a slow growing heat, and he gives off little whines as Dirk sinks fully inside.

“I’m all yours,” Kankri breathes, awed by how much his Master seems affected by being inside his ass already. He drops his hold on his legs, wrapping them around Dirk’s waist instead, squeezing him as if he could pull him any deeper. “All yours, Master, my holes are just for you to use, please use me.” His hands rest by his head once again, fingers flexing and curling as he adjusts to the way he feels speared open by heat, as his hole slowly relaxes to accommodate his Master’s cock.

Kankri imagines he really is a toy, Dirk’s pretty little onahole to use whenever he wants, however he pleases, that he exists just to get his Master off, for his Master to cum inside and then toss him aside when he’s done. His eyelids flutter shut, another soft sound slipping from his mouth.

  
  


Kankri wraps his legs around Dirk like a slut should, confirming that he’s just for Dirk to use and Dirk grins.

“That’s right, you’re all mine.” Dirk purrs. He grinds deep for a moment or two, just feeling Kankri’s tight warmth, watching the hazy, submissive expression on Kankri’s face.

“So take your Master’s cock like a good fucking cumdump.”

With that, Dirk plants one hand on the bed next to Kankri’s chest, pulls back, and thrust forwards, driving his cock into Kankri’s body.

“Fuck, that’s good.” Dirk groans, repeating the motion, starting up a long, rolling rhythm. “You’re fucking _made_ for this, Kankri, you’re made to be a slutty little bitch for your Master. You’re so goddamn perfect, the perfect little cumrag, meant for taking your Master’s cum.”

His other hand comes up and sinks into Kankri’s hair, holding tightly.

“Show me those pretty eyes, Kankri-” Dirk purrs, “I want you to see the face of your Master as he rapes you- as he takes your body _all_ for himself.”

  
  


Dirk finally starts moving, and it’s like a whole new feeling - clinging to his Master’s voice calling him ‘cumdump,’ Kankri feels filthy in a new way as Dirk fucks his ass in long, smooth motions, as his Master can’t hold back his appreciation for how good it feels. Kankri wants to hear Dirk groan like that and praise him and his holes for-fucking-ever, gasping wet, emotional moans as his body rocks with Dirk’s rhythm.

“Thank you, Master, thank you - _hahh_!” the hand in his hair shocks a moan out of Kankri, face slack with pleasure for a moment before he processes his Master’s demands. Slowly, his eyes blink open, unfocused and hazy for a moment before they finally hone in on Dirk above him. He’s already teary, but his eyes well up and spill over, swimming with emotion as he watches Dirk’s face, watches the way pleasure shapes it and knows that it’s his doing. " _Master,_ " his voice wavers desperately through a moan.

All he wants is to make Dirk cum, no longer caring if he does or not, so he rolls his hips to match Dirk’s pace, starts to talk just to give his Master filthy words to hang onto the same way Dirk has done for Kankri this whole time. “Is my little hole good for you, Master? It’s your toy,  
your tight little onahole, made for you to fuck and cum inside and forget about whenever you want, fuck, I want your cum so  _bad_ , wanna feel you cum inside your whore, want you to own every part of me, want you to grab me and touch me and sink your fingers and your cock inside me whenever you want and I can’t even say no because I’m just your little rape doll.”

  
  


F _uuuck_ Kankri talking like that- Kankri, the uptight, proper, kind of a bastard guy- talking like a filthy little slut, begging for his Master- there’s  _nothing_ like it, nothing like hearing Kankri break apart and call himself a  _rape doll_ .

“That’s right, you _are_.” Dirk purrs. “You’re my pretty little rape doll, a toy for me to use whenever I want- you’re made to take my cum and be _thankful_ that I’m giving it to you, you stupid slut.”

He grinds in, pulls Kankri’s head up, and spits on him again, the thick glob landing at the corner of Kankri’s mouth. He’s back to fucking after that, snapping his hips in hard and deep.

“You’re just a pretty face and a tight hole for me- my own personal living cum dump, an onahole to jerk off with- that’s what you want to be, isn’t it? You just want to be a useful little toy for your Master. You want to be a sock for me to shove my dick into until I cum and then just drop you until I’m ready to go again.”

Dirk laughs meanly, as an idea strikes him. “I shouldn’t even let you cum-” he croons, letting go of Kankri’s hair so that he can grab at him, haul him down the bed a couple of inches, and hump roughly into him instead of fucking him properly. He slaps their hips together animallistically, using the force of his thrusts to bounce off of Kankri and shove right back in. “-toys don’t need to cum, after all, you’re just a pretty face to be used to jerk off with, why do you need to cum? It’s certainly not  _my_ responsibility to make sure my toy feels good.”

  
  


" _Yes,_ fuck -" Kankri nods feverishly along with all of Dirk’s words, hair pulling as Dirk’s grip stops his head from moving very far. Dirk grinds in  _deep,_ making Kankri’s eyes flutter and go crossed, full full full and so hot. He could swear Dirk is throbbing deep in his belly.

Kankri makes a shocked little moan as Dirk’s spit hits his face, eyes flinching closed for just a moment before he forces them open again to watch his Master’s face like he was told. His hand jerks, going to wipe his face off, but he stops himself, tongue poking out to sweep the spit from his lips into his mouth instead.

“Thank you, Mast _er_ \- oh my _God_ -” his sounds are jolted from his chest, unfiltered and guttural like they’re being fucked right out of him from the force of Dirk’s cock slamming inside him, from his solid hips smacking against Kankri’s soft ass.

“Yes - _yes_ \- oh fuck, Master,” Kankri chokes, “wanna be - your toy - wanna be a good - good toy for you, wanna be the best cocksleeve, the best cumdump, all for you -”

Kankri’s efforts to speak are cut off with a long moan as Dirk somehow picks up on fucking  _exactly_ what he was thinking, how he didn’t care about anything but making Dirk cum, how he didn’t need to even cum himself - Dirk laughs as he says he might not even get Kankri off, starting to fuck him like he means it, like he’s only chasing his own instincts, his own pleasure. Kankri’s body bounces off Dirk’s hips just to get yanked back onto it, crying sharp and short every time he’s dragged back across the sheets for Dirk’s cock to punch deep.

It’s so good.

It’s so fucking good, to be used, to be yanked around like a doll, fucked like a toy, to be condescended to about how his pleasure doesn’t matter all the while. Kankri’s whole body is hot, burning, prickling with sweat as he pants and cries, open mouthed and dumb, an instant addict to the feeling of his Master using him up.

  
  


Kankri thanks him automatically without even being prompted like a good little rape toy should and that makes Dirk’s cock  _throb_ , gut going tight with a burning, vicious enjoyment.

“Oh, it doesn’t fucking matter what you want,” Dirk purrs and he lets go of Kankri’s hair, grabbing his throat instead and pinning him to the bed, squeezing lightly, “you dumb little slut.”

He slaps his hips against Kankri’s rough and hard- and he knows he’s close, he knows he’s close to cumming- does he make Kankri cum? Would Kankri find it hot if Dirk just denies him, doesn’t let him cum at  _all?_

God, that idea’s so fucking hot. Dirk raping Kankri and not even letting Kankri get off- Kankri has no choice but to take his Master’s cum and thank him for it and then isn’t allowed to do anything else- literally just a living fleshlight for Dirk to use.

“After all, you already _are_ a good fucking toy, the best goddamn cumdump I’ve ever seen-” Dirk coos, “you stupid fleshlight, too goddamn dumb to be of use as anything than a living cocksleeve- you want my cum? You want your Master to give you him cum, to rape you until he’s satisfied and fill you up?”

A cruel grin spreads across Dirk’s face.

“You can either have your Master fill your slutty ass up with his cum- or you can cum. Pick one, you empty headed slut- Are you doing to be a proper fucktoy and make your Master cum? Or are you a selfish little whore who only cares about his own pleasure?”

  
  


All brain activity stops the moment Dirk grabs Kankri’s throat; he’s stupid, empty-headed as his Master holds him down and squeezes his throat and fucking rams into him. He can’t hold anything back anymore, can’t hope to control himself - his voice cries sweet and raspy as Dirk fucks him, hole squeezing tight around Dirk’s cock as his lower back bows. His hands come up to wrap around Dirk’s wrist - not tightly. Just holding him.

Little breathy  _haa - haa - haa_ s puff their way out of Kankri with each brutal smack of Dirk’s hips into Kankri’s ass, interrupted only by unfiltered moans; Kankri’s eyelashes flutter as he listens to the sound of his Master’s voice, but he barely registers the words, just that saccharine condescension that makes him so fucking wet. He must be  _dripping_ right now, his own slick maybe even helping to ease the way for Dirk’s relentless cock.

Kankri blinks up at Dirk, at first uncomprehending as he asks him to make a choice - he recognizes the tone of a question, and he struggles hard to focus, grateful Dirk continues to repeat the question, presumably in a different, nastier way, but it gives him a chance to catch up.

There’s no hesitation.

“Cum in me,” Kankri gasps, rushing the words out in a breathless rasp, "Master, please cum in me, I need it, I’m your stupid fucking cumdump _pleeeease -_ "

  
  


Kankri is so fucked out and stupid underneath him that Dirk can  _see_ him trying to process Dirk’s question-

And he responds  _exactly_ as Dirk hopes, begging for his cum, calling himself a stupid cumdump-

“Then shut the fuck up and _take it_.” Dirk mocks and fucking _humps_ down into Kankri, hard and rough and uneven as he animalistically fucks into his pretty little rape toy, so desperate for his cum.

Dirk slams in deep and groans as he hits that perfect fucking peak. “That’s it, bitch, take your Master’s cum like the good fucking slut you are… god, such a pretty fucking rape bait, the best fucking onahole for me to use-” He breathes as he fucks himself through his orgasm, cumming deep into his personal cumrag.

“God.” Dirk breathes as he stills. “You’re so fucking good, you stupid slut. So fucking perfect.”

  
  


Kankri can’t hope to truly  _shut up_ at his Master’s command, but he does at least stop trying to string words together, allowing his sounds to be wordless and uncontrolled. Dirk starts to really pound into him, and he grunts and groans with each rough impact of his Master’s hips as he sets an almost frenzied pace in the pursuit of his orgasm.

Kankri’s fingers squeeze Dirk’s wrist, thighs squeeze around Dirk’s waist, hole squeezes around Dirk’s cock, keeping him close as his hips keep pistoning through his orgasm like he just can’t stop as he fills Kankri up with his hot cum. Kankri shivers, cocklet giving a valiant twitch as Dirk fills him up; he pants with effort while Dirk slows and stills, weary even without cumming just from being used so thoroughly.

He looks up at Dirk with hazy, half-lidded eyes, still holding onto Dirk’s wrist with one hand but reaching up to touch his face with the other while Dirk calls him  _good,_ calls him  _perfect._ He has cum in both his holes and a raw throat to boot, hair plastered to him with sweat - he feels utterly used, taken apart from the rigid lines he builds his conduct and persona in like armor and broken down into what he wishes he was. Whether that’s as specific as a toy or a whore or as simple as a person momentarily freed from fear - he doesn’t suppose it matters overly much.

  
  


Kankri falls apart underneath him, clinging to him and sobbing and he’s holding onto Dirk so tightly that it feels like he never wants to let Dirk go- and Dirk never wants to give him a reason to. He’s going to hold and protect Kankri from the rest of the world  _forever_ , he’s going to make sure that not a single fucking person gets to lay a goddamn finger on  _Dirk’s_ rape bait.

Kankri’s hand on his face makes him shiver, his voice almost stuttering over his words, but he keeps it together so that he can lean down and claim Kankri’s mouth in a kiss so tender it makes his chest ache.

“I have you.” Dirk murmurs, and presses another. “You’re mine, baby.” Another. “No one else gets to touch you.” Another. “No one else gets to hurt you.” Another. “Just me.” Another. “Just fucking me.” Another. “Because you’re mine.” And another. “You’re all fucking mine.”

He finally pulls back to look down at Kankri, at this perfect fucking boy who would rather take Dirk’s cum instead of cumming himself.

“Kankri.” Dirk says, voice warm and affectionate as he looks down at his pretty little toy. “Do you want to cum?”

  
  


Dirk treats Kankri to a litany of kisses and murmured affirmations and declarations of ownership, each kiss so soft, so sweetly emotional that Kankri is almost breathless by the time Dirk pulls back again to look at him. His chest feels tight and full as he sucks in a deep breath, as he watches Dirk’s beautiful face above him.

Every place Dirk touches Kankri is a grounding point, a reminder that Kankri is solid and real and Dirk is solid and real and he feels warm, so warm, with Dirk still settled inside him, with Dirk’s solid body draped over him and caging him down to the bed. His arousal is a mere dull background throb, easily ignored.

“Mm,” hums Kankri, matching the warmth radiating from Dirk’s tone and eyes and touch. “I don’t know,” he says, and it’s the truth. He would be fine either way, buzzing and hazy and sated and ready for sleep already, and another orgasm would drag him deeper into that perfect sleepy warmth. “Whatever you want.”

  
  


Kankri doesn’t say  _yes_ , so…

Dirk laughs softly and leans in for another slow, gentle kiss, just a warm, tender slide of their mouths, mouthing nice and slow against Kankri as his dick slowly goes soft inside of Kankri’s warm body.

“Alright.” Dirk murmurs, their noses bumping together. “Then you’ll be my perfect little rape toy- and you don’t get to cum. You just get to take your Master’s cum and that’s that.”

He presses another kiss to Kankri’s mouth.

“Going to kiss you so much, baby.” Dirk murmurs. “Gonna pin you to the wall and kiss you while you cry, gonna drag you into my lap and kiss you while you squirm and fuss and try and pull away. I’m never gonna get enough of you baby- so I’ll take if from you, even if-”

He laughs softly, and amends,

" _especially_ if you can’t stand it."

“Okay?” Dirk purrs. “That’s my promise, Kankri- no matter how much you struggle and fight, you _belong_ to me- so I’ll take you when-, where-, and _how-_ ever I want. You won’t ever be able to get away from me, won’t ever be able to push me off- because I _own_ you. You don’t get to say no to me, you pretty, _perfect_ fucking rape bait.”

He tucks Kankri’s hair behind his ear, smiling fondly down at him.

  
  


Kankri sighs softly into Dirk’s kiss, content with their mouths moving slow and lazy together. God, Dirk’s mouth on his, hands on his skin, his Master’s cock buried inside - it all feels so heavenly, divine pleasure and satisfaction that he’s been denied for so long that Kankri just wants to gorge himself on it while he can, selfish and feral and so, so human.

“Yes, Master,” Kankri murmurs in return, gently nudging his nose against Dirk’s; he really doesn’t mind. His dick is slowly going soft, his cunt still gently throbbing with his pulse, but it’s all easy, hazy warmth. He is boneless, truly relaxed like he’s never been in his life, melted into the bed and moulded around his Master, around Dirk, this beautiful, perfect man who gave him exactly what he needed and forced down the panic in him to find the peace.

Kankri easily tips up into Dirk’s next kiss, settles in looking like a smug, comfortable cat while his Master talks, tells him he’s never going to stop kissing Kankri, even if the horrible crawling feelings come back and he can’t stand it again. How he belongs wholly to Dirk, his toy and his pet,  _his_ .

He could almost laugh - he’s sure, were anyone eavesdropping, the words may seem deranged, dangerous, horrific. Kankri only sees it for the romantic declaration it is, feels the full, tight feeling in his chest as Dirk sweeps his hair back with the gentlest fingers and smiles at him like he’s something special and precious. His eyelids sink, but his gaze is full of affection.

“Thank you.”

  
  


Kankri looks up at him and thanks him, soft and sweet, and Dirk smiles right back down at him.

“You’re welcome, baby.” Dirk murmurs. He leans in for another kiss- and then he’s curling around Kankri, putting them on their sides and tucking Kankri in against his chest so that they can drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

\----- THREE WEEKS LATER -----

Dirk thinks he’s got pretty much everything set up. Music that’s decently partyish, some playlist he had found that was full of pop trash with heavy enough beats to dance to, alcohol gathered in various forms to be made into drinks-

And himself, dressed in the tight tanktop and black jeans that he had dressed in that original night.

The night he and Kankri had met. The night they are now pretending to be doing over- only this time with a lot more rape.

Fuck, Dirk is so ready for this.

He’s just waiting on Kankri to show up, already dumping a drink together for him- lots of vodka and enough flavor to drown out the vodka completely.

Kankri is going to be getting  _very_ drunk tonight. Much drunker than he had originally.

Dirk hops to his feet, though, as a knock on his door rings out- and opens it to grin at Kankri.

“Hey, babe.” Dirk says, letting himself look Kankri up and down in an obvious motion. “Come on in. You ready?”

  
  


This plan has been in the works since Dirk first raped Kankri, talked about how he should have done it the first night they met with his dick sunk deep inside - neither of them could stop thinking about it after that. It’s true that Kankri wouldn’t change their reality for anything, the series of events that led him to have the level of trust in Dirk that he does, but  _God,_ thinking about Dirk taking advantage of Kankri being in over his head at that party gets him wetter than anything.

Kankri dresses in the same clothes he had that night - his deep maroon grandpa cardigan, black turtleneck and leggings underneath - with a little, special change. It’s become a bit of a  _thing_ for Kankri now, to collect pretty lingerie to wear on the nights that Dirk plans to rape him. Tonight’s set is in Dirk’s unusual favorite color - a pretty, burnt orange lace bra and thong hitched high on his hips.

He knocks on Dirk’s door. They decided not to use an actual party to start - too many unknown variables. Just Dirk plying Kankri with drinks until he can’t stand, alone together in his apartment. Kankri tries not to look like he knows what’s coming, or that he’s excited for it, as Dirk opens the door for him.

“Hello, Dirk,” Kankri greets his boyfriend the same way he always does, eyes dark and knowing as Dirk’s eyes roam over his body; Kankri can’t help an indulgent once-over for himself, either. Dirk’s tank top leaves little wonder to the solid body underneath, and Kankri quite likes to see his strong arms on display.

“Yes,” he answers, stepping inside. “Are you?”

  
  


“Of course.” Dirk says, shutting the door. “Just one quick thing, first-”

He takes Kankri’s face in his hands and tugs him in for a kiss, not letting him squirm or pull away. Checking his sensitivity for the night- but also because he gets to kiss his boyfriend nice and good, licking his way into Kankri’s mouth in a possessive, hungry kiss.

He pulls away, but doesn’t drop his hands. “Hey there, my pretty little bitch.” Dirk purrs. “You ready to get that slutty cunt of yours raped tonight?”

  
  


Kankri barely has warning before his boyfriend’s hands are on his face, mouth on his mouth - he gasps, head jerking back but going nowhere, whimpering as Dirk invades his mouth. The spike of pure fear is more familiar, now, the unnerving crawling prickle on his skin giving way to heat in the base of his hips as his mouth falls slack to let Dirk take what he wants.

When Dirk pulls back, Kankri is breathing fast and uneven, the sides of his curled fists pressing against his boyfriend’s chest to push him back, but his eyes are hazy and low-lidded already.

“Yes, Master,” Kankri breathes, though his body still tries to shake Dirk’s hands from his skin of its own volition.

  
  


Nice and sensitive today.

Good.

Dirk can feel Kankri shaking under his touch, hands instinctively trying to push him backwards, but his expression is aroused, submissive.

Dirk will never get tired of hearing Kankri call him  _Master_ .

“Good boy.” Dirk says and takes his hands back. He doesn’t want to make Kankri lose that sensitivity yet, after all. “In that case, no point in waiting. Let’s come get started.”

He leads Kankri over to his couch, lets him sit down, and then immediately pushes a glass into Kankri’s hand.

“Go ahead and drink up, babe- We’ll start really getting into it once you can feel it.”

  
  


A heavy breath of relief sighs out of Kankri as Dirk lets go with a little praise; Kankri sways minutely on the spot, finding his balance again between calming his panic reaction and wanting to be good for his Master.

He follows Dirk to the couch and sits dainty and proper, ankles crossed and knees pressed together. Immediately, his boyfriend hands him a drink, and he holds it between both hands. It smells heavily of alcohol and sweetness.

“Very well,” he says, lifting the glass to drink - surprisingly, though he can smell the sharp scent of the alcohol, he can’t taste it, all sweet syrupy flavor as it goes down his throat tingling and warm. He hasn’t had anything to drink since that night, and never before then, so he can’t imagine it will be long before he starts to feel drunk, or at least tipsy and off-kilter.

  
  


Dirk mixes a quick drink for himself- basically no alcohol in his, and settles in to sit on the other end of the couch, watching Kankri drink with a fondly warm expression. It probably shouldn’t take long for Kankri to feel it- he’s on a train right to drunk town.

Once Kankri’s drunk the whole glass Dirk lightly plucks it from his hand and makes a new one. He re-settles himself back onto the couch, just inches away from Kankri.

“Hey, you look kinda out of it- you okay?” Dirk asks, echoing his words from that night, putting a hand on Kankri’s arm.

  
  


The warmth and weight of drunkenness settles over Kankri quickly; his limbs and head feel heavy as he settles into the couch, head lolling back against the cushions once his glass is empty.

He relinquishes the empty cup to Dirk with a soft hum, eyes slipping shut as he listens to Dirk mix in the kitchen, bottles lightly clinking on the counter as they’re shuffled around.

Dirk’s weight dipping the couch next to him has Kankri slowly lifting his head, blinking his eyes open as Dirk asks if he’s okay; his mouth opens to respond, but then Dirk touches his arm, and he jerks into alertness, recoiling against the arm of the couch with wide eyes.

“Sorry!” he blurts, not unlike the night they met, although he isn’t thinking about mirroring in the moment. “Don’t touch me, please,” he recovers. His face feels hot, and he could guess it’s mostly the alcohol, but he remembers the hazy, unfiltered thoughts he’d had about how handsome Dirk was that night, even after he’d scared him with the hand on his arm.

“I think I’m alright,” he continues, speech a little slow, less crisp than the way he typically speaks, “but I’m not sure if I can. Accurately assess that. I’ve never drank before.” He remembers his own candidness, the way he couldn’t filter his own talkativeness if he tried, too-much-information-ing all over Dirk with a sluggish tongue.

  
  


Dirk immediately takes his hand off of Kankri’s arm, holding it up. “Sure thing- didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He studies his boyfriend, able to fully admire now the little bits he can see of Kankri not quite being able to control himself- the slower edge to his words.

“First time, huh?” Dirk says. “We’ve all been there.”

At the party, this had been the point where Dirk had offered to get Kankri some water, to help him to a quieter place to sit, to get him home since he looks distressed-

“Here, let me get you another drink.” Dirk says with a little laugh. “You look like you’re not quite at the stage of being drunk enough to enjoy being drunk- gotta get past that threshold first.”

He holds the new drink out to Kankri for him to take.

  
  


“Thanks,” Kankri smiles gratefully the same way he had the first time Dirk had taken his hand off the _moment_ Kankri expressed discomfort with it. This time, though, he can tell Dirk’s eyes are lingering in a way he hadn’t let himself before. Or maybe Kankri just hadn’t noticed Dirk admiring him that night. He’d been truly out of it with anxiety and alcohol combined, then.

“Yes,” he laughs, soft but unrestrained, “I suppose that’s true.”

Instead of a way out, this time Dirk offers him another drink. Kankri laughs along with Dirk’s assessment as he takes the glass in both hands. Mmm, cold drink. He resists the urge to hold the glass to his forehead.

“So there comes a point where you _don’t_ feel vaguely nauseated, then?” Kankri jokes, lifting the drink to sip lightly from it to test it. It’s just as sweet as before, sweet enough to pretend it’s weak, though he knows Dirk has poured it just as heavy as the last one. He wonders when he’ll become a clumsy, helpless, drooling mess, if he’ll feel it coming or if it will sneak up on him or if it will simply knock the feet out from under him all at once. He wonders how Dirk will take advantage of his vulnerability, if he’ll keep acting kind and concerned as he does it, if he’ll even be able to attempt to fight Dirk off when he makes his move.

“I don’t want to overdo it,” he says, hiding the sly smirk tugging at his lips by taking another, much deeper drink from his glass.

  
  


“Well, at some point it’s supposed to transition into feeling good- though I suppose it really does depend on alcohol tolerance.” Dirk says, watching Kankri drink heavily from the glass. “We definitely want to avoid the blackout state- More than just pride can be damaged if you get to that place.”

He chuckles a little, leaning back on the couch, taking a drink of his own.

“You come here with anyone?” He asks. “Must be pretty shit friends for them to leave you all on your own like this.”

  
  


“Well, I’ll let you know when I get there, then,” Kankri chuckles, eyeing Dirk with his lip still pressed to the edge of the glass. “Can you tell you’re going to black out before you do?”

Kankri drinks deeply again as Dirk takes a drink himself. He’s getting so warm; his face must be flushed by now, maybe even shining with light sweat. He tugs at the collar of his turtleneck, considering taking off his sweater. He wouldn’t have dared at that original party, terrified of anyone seeing the shape of his body in the thin, tight-fitting clothes he wears underneath his sweaters.

“Hmm? Oh, sure,” Kankri sighs, rolling his eyes gently. “I think they underestimated how much bringing a ‘party pooper’ to a party would impede on their own enjoyment,” he muses. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”

  
  


Dirk grins around the edge of his glass. “If there’s a way, haven’t found it yet. Then again, I’ve only been blackout once, so-” He shrugs.

He watches Kankri shift, the flush on his face grow. Watches him tug at his sweater. He can feel his dick twitching in anticipation, watching Kankri getting drunker.

“Mm. Kinda confirms they’re shit friends, then, seeing as I hardly think you’re a party pooper.” Dirk muses. “I guess that’s their loss, then- I’ll just have to monopolize all of your time, tonight.”

He wants to touch all over Kankri, put a hand on his thigh and watch him squirm, wants to hear him ask Dirk to stop- but Kankri’s not drunk enough yet.

Soon.

  
  


“Interesting,” Kankri murmurs thoughtfully. He’s sure Dirk won’t push him to blackout levels tonight, will want him to remember their scene as much as Kankri wants to.

“Perhaps you simply have low standards for fun,” Kankri retorts, but it’s playful, his wry smile no longer hiding in his glass. It would have been nice, wouldn’t it? To have flirted with Dirk for real. To have not been too anxious and disoriented to, but also to not have been afraid to show interest in anyone.

“I can’t say I’d mind your company, though, so, feel free. Monopolize away,” he says, looking down at his drink for a moment, contemplative.

He then nods to himself, small and decisive, and throws back all that remains of his drink.

  
  


Kankri tosses back his drink- which means it’s time for another one.

Dirk laughs, plucking the glass from Kankri’s hand and rising to his feet. “Call me Mr. Monopoly man, then,” he says, “because that’s exactly what I’m about to do.”

He mixes up a third- and final- drink for Kankri. This one’ll be enough to push him into full drunken state.

When he returns, he sits down right up against Kankri, their thighs pressing together.

“I seem to have found a cute boy all alone.” Dirk murmurs, holding the glass out to Kankri, very much in his space, now. “And he’s saying fun things like _monopolize my time_. It sounds like it’s my lucky night, with talk like that, don’t you think?”

  
  


He’s aware that it’s not that clever of a joke, but something about Dirk’s tone makes Kankri laugh out loud. “I expect a monocle instead of those shades,” he calls to Dirk’s back as he returns to the kitchen to fill his drink.

It’s funny - Dirk wasn’t exactly wrong. Kankri feels  _good,_ skin pleasantly warm and buzzing, head filled with fluff in a way that makes him smile idly as he waits for Dirk to come back. He feels - giggly, bubbly, less held down by his own rules. It’s similar to the way he feels when Dirk forces him under, wrestles his fear into submission. It’s not quite so intense as that space, but it  _does_ have him sunk into the couch, shins splayed but knees pressed together as he absently stims by flicking the tips of his fingernails against each other until Dirk returns.

He’s close - too close.

The place where their bodies meet is no longer crawling, but on fire; Kankri has nowhere to go, already having pressed himself against the arm of the couch, and his leg and his hands start to shake. Still, he takes the drink Dirk offers him, eyes wide and nervous and pinned, doe-like, as Dirk murmurs to him.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Kankri laughs, nerves obvious as he looks away with his face flushing hotter; he ducks into his glass to hide, sipping slowly as his leg jiggles outside of his control.

  
  


Oh, there’s what Dirk wants to see. Wide-eyed, subtly trying to push away from the contact, nervous-

And very, very rapeable.

“Well, here I am,” Dirk says, draping one arm over the back of the couch, fingers very lightly brushing Kankri’s far shoulder, “with a very cute boy, who’s told me it’s his first time drinking, with bad friends who have abandoned him.”

He grins and drops his other hand onto Kankri’s thigh.

“Sounds like it’s my responsibility to make sure you have a good time then, right?” He purrs.

  
  


Dirk slowly adds new points of contact while he talks, moving in even closer as the touch to Kankri’s shoulder and thigh make him jump. He laughs nervously again, diving into his drink as if it were a barrier, as if it would make this easier.

“I asked you not to touch me,” he says, quietly. He knows that it won’t make Dirk back off - not this time. A little thrill runs down his spine, but it’s hardly externally discernible from how he’s already shaking.

“If I didn’t think you were better than that,” Kankri starts, voice unstable and words warped further by his sluggish speech, “I’d think you were trying something.”

  
  


“Relax.” Dirk says, but he takes his hand off Kankri’s thigh. “I’m just trying to make sure you enjoy the party. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

He hums a little, a thought occurring to him. “I think you’re not quite there yet-”

He plucks the drink from Kankri’s hand, picks up a bottle off of the coffee table, and adds a healthy dose of vodka into Kankri’s already-heavy drink.

“So here, let’s get you feeling even better.” Dirk purrs, and presses the cup right up to Kankri’s mouth, starting to tip it. Kankri will either need to drink- or get the drink spilled all down his front.

  
  


Kankri does not appreciate being told to  _relax_ in any capacity, and he knows Dirk knows this, but he does nevertheless as Dirk takes his hand off his thigh.

“Maybe -” he starts, but startles as Dirk plucks his glass out of his hands. He watches, dumb, as Dirk floods the drink with more vodka.

“What are you -” he tries to ask, but the glass is pressed to his mouth before he can finish, already tipping and threatening to spill down his chin; with no other option, he drinks, the unmixed vodka burning his throat and springing tears to his eyes as it goes down.

  
  


That’s the ticket. Dirk doesn’t let up- he makes Kankri drink all of it down- and enjoys the sight of some of it spilling down Kankri’s chin and wetting his sweater.

When it’s finally empty, he takes it back and puts it on the table.

“See?” He says. “I bet you’re feeling even better already.”

Aw, did the vodka burn going down? Kankri looks like he’s near tears. That’s hot. Dirk is sure all that vodka is about to hit him like a  _truck._

  
  


Kankri can’t even think to try to stop Dirk, doesn’t even try to grab his wrists or push away - for one, he doesn’t want to be coated in alcohol, although Dirk has already spilled some that’s now soaking into his collar and making his skin feel sticky. He keeps drinking until it’s gone, coughing and spluttering and panting when he’s finally allowed to catch a breath.

“Jesus,” he says, “you could have _warned_ me.”

All of that vodka hitting his stomach at once is - well. It’s not great. He feels sloshing, waterlogged, and even as his stomach settles, his head takes a turn, feeling suddenly heavy and pounding and upside-down. It’s  _too fast,_ and Kankri’s hands come up to hold his head for a moment, slumping against the arm of the couch.

“Give me a moment,” he mumbles, markedly more slurred than before. One of his hands clutches the front of his cardigan, while his thighs squeeze together with the vague realization that he’s well past the point of having any control.

  
  


“Oh, shit.” Dirk says, and his hand drops back onto Kankri’s thigh. “Was that too much? Shit, I’m so bad at making drinks.”

He squeezes Kankri’s thigh, looking at him with fake concern.

“Yeah, I think I overdid it. Shit. Come’re, lets get you out of here.”

Dirk grabs Kankri by the upper arms and tugs him to his feet, catching him as he stumbles. He doesn’t let Kankri get in a word of protest as he wraps an arm around Kankri’s shoulders.

“Come on- it’s not far.” Dirk says, and guides Kankri to his bedroom. “Nice and easy, that does it.” He opens the door, brings Kankri inside, and lets him fall down onto the bed on his back. “You okay?”

  
  


Dirk acts as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing - even through his drunkenness, Kankri can see the act inside the act.

“S’okay,” he manages, even as his thigh weakly twitches under Dirk’s hand.

Dirk determines it’s time to ‘get Kankri home,’ and hauls him up without even a moment to prepare. Kankri stumbles and sways on his feet, hands bracing against Dirk’s chest both to keep him at a distance and to keep his own balance as his head recovers from the sudden change.

“Hang on -” Kankri mumbles, but Dirk is already holding him close and walking him away. Kankri has no choice but to follow along lest he fall on his ass, legs unstable and dragging as he weakly tries to push at Dirk’s side, to twist out from underneath his arm.

It doesn’t take long to get to Dirk’s bedroom, and Kankri collapses into the bed once Dirk lets him go. Kankri screws his eyes shut against the vertigo of the much-too-fast position shift again, hands wrapping around his stomach as he slowly and clumsily pulls his knees up.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, both an echo of the first time he’d been laid here and also the honest truth. “Sorry. I’m prob’ly ru-… Ruining your night.”

  
  


“Ruining it?” Dirk’s brows raise. “Nah. You’ve _made_ it, actually.” He climbs onto the bed and hauls Kankri up it so that Kankri has his head on the pillows, then straddles Kankri’s hips.

“What kind of a dumb slut takes drinks from strangers?” Dirk asks, leaning in close, his hands on either side of Kankri’s head. “There’s no way you’ve never gotten drunk before- I know exactly what you were doing.”

He leans in and claims Kankri’s mouth, hungry and biting, and gives a nice, firm roll of his hips down against Kankri.

  
  


Kankri can only make a very unpretty  _hughhhh_ as Dirk hauls him up the bed, but he appreciates having a pillow under his pounding, swimming head, at least. Dirk’s weight settles on top of him, and he has a spike of  _get off get off get off_ at the same time as heat sinks into his crotch, cock starting to sluggishly swell even through his drunkenness.

“What?” Kankri asks, pushing his hands against Dirk’s chest as he leans over Kankri and cages him in. “No - I don’t know what you’re talking about, I wasn’t -”

Dirk’s mouth is on his, rough, biting, intense, cutting off any other protests Kankri could make; he whimpers, high and trembling, against Dirk’s mouth, continuing to try to push him away. Dirk rolls his hips against Kankri’s pinned body, rubbing right up against his little cock, and he gasps, mouth dropping open against Dirk’s mouth. His fingers clench Dirk’s tank, still trying to push him off, but he’s weak and dizzy, only managing weak little shoves and squirms.

  
  


Kankri makes such a pretty, distressed noise and Dirk is so fucking turned on right now. Holy shit.

He has to force himself not to just yank at Kankri’s pants right there and then- he’s going to take it nice and slow, like how he would have that night, exploring this boy’s beautiful body.

So he kisses and kisses and kisses into Kankri’s mouth, until he finally pulls back, breathing heavy, a couple strands of spit stringing between their mouths.

“Fuck, you taste good.” Dirk tells him. He shifts so that he can take his hands and find the hem of Kankri’s sweater and tug it up, revealing his stomach. “I bet your skin is so fucking soft, too- you’re the kind of boy who’s so fucking enticing everywhere.”

He runs his fingers over Kankri’s stomach as he presses his mouth to Kankri’s neck- moaning low in his throat as he starts pressing wet kisses over Kankri’s skin, nipping softly at places.

  
  


Dirk just keeps kissing, Kankri’s mouth slack and open for him as he struggles pitifully. He doesn’t want to jostle his head - doesn’t want to jostle his body too much either, lest he be sick - so he eventually just lets it happen, gasping for breath once Dirk finally pulls back. He watches the spit strings between them thin and break as Dirk tells him he  _tastes_ good; it makes Kankri shiver, vaguely registering how creepy it would have been that night, if it wasn’t coming from his boyfriend right now. At the same time, his body registers it as  _hot,_ his dick valiantly chubbing up against Dirk’s hard, denim-clad cock.

“No - wait,” Kankri gasps, head falling back as Dirk starts to push his clothes up and kiss up his neck. “Stop, please -”

His stomach tenses and jerks under Dirk’s light touch, forcing his body to writhe beneath his boyfriend as his instincts try to throw him off. His protests are clumsy, hands pushing at Dirk’s shoulders only to slip off of them, hips twisting only to press up against Dirk’s weight and fail to budge him.

“Don’t -” Kankri’s eyes squeeze shut as Dirk moans into his neck and gives soft nips to his skin, a soft whimper shuddering out of his throat.

  
  


“Shh, shh-” Dirk shushes Kankri, lips pressed to Kankri’s neck as his fingers skate across Kankri’s soft stomach, finding his sides and squeezing. “Relax, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs. “Just having a bit of fun, yeah? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He keeps pressing hot, wet kisses up and down Kankri’s neck, letting his fingers creep higher up Kankri’s stomach, like he’s exploring it for the first time.

“Just relax. Gonna make you feel real good, baby.” Dirk breathes. “Just gotta be nice and relaxed for me, yeah?”

He’s really playing up the ‘creepy, pressuring, taking-advantage-of-a-drunk-person rapist’ angle here- and it’s  _so_ fucking hot, holy shit.

“You’re so fucking pretty, it’d be a shame to let you pass on by.” Dirk purrs. His voice is soft and persuading, honey velvet. “Knew I had to touch you the moment I saw you, so fucking pretty, all on your own-”

He moans softly, grinding his hips down against Kankri again.

  
  


“No, no, no, no,” Kankri whimpers as Dirk tries to placate him, fists thumping against his boyfriend’s chest as his hands wrap around and squeeze his waist. " _Please,_ " Kankri begs, voice breaking with the tone of a person who knows they’re going to be denied anyway.

He’s helpless, easily pinned to the bed by Dirk’s weight and the heavy weight of his own intoxication - Kankri can barely even fight as Dirk mouths over his neck, murmuring to relax, murmuring how Kankri’s just too pretty to let go, how Dirk knew right from the start that he was vulnerable, all alone.

Kankri whines, high and distressed but obviously turned on as Dirk grinds against him again.

“Please stop,” he whimpers, trying to bar his arms between his chest and Dirk’s, but God, he feels so heavy. The burning discomfort he feels under Dirk’s touch is fading - as if, now that he’s too drunk to resist it, he has no choice but to accept it, to do what he can to endure.

  
  


Every single one of Kankri’s protests goes right to his dick. The tiny little attempts at pushing him away, clumsy and weak in Kankri’s drunken state, are easily ignored for Dirk to continue his slow, gentle touches.

“It’s okay, baby.” Dirk murmurs. “Nothing to be so fussy about- just having some fun.”

He laughs softly and presses a kiss to Kankri’s ear- and then he’s batting Kankri’s hands away, tugging his sweater the rest of the way up , bunching up under Kankri’s armpits.

“Oh, look at you.” Dirk murmurs, talking more to himself than Kankri, now, as he admired Kankri’s pretty underwear. “So soft and pretty- I knew it.”

He lightly smooths his hands up Kankri’s torso, settling over the fabric cupping his small breasts and gently squeezing, like he’s testing how they feel in his hands. Then he’s tugging up the fabric and leaning in and closing his mouth around one of Kankri’s nipples, moaning low under his breath.

It feels good to suck on Kankri’s tit, massaging the soft flesh with his mouth, playing with the nipple with his tongue. It feels even better pretending that Kankri doesn’t want it, that he’s too drunk to fight Dirk off. That Kankri has to let Dirk do whatever the hell he wants.

Dirk slips off with a wet noise and murmurs to himself, “so fucking cute,” and sucks the nipple back in, breathing heavier, deeper. His hands push Kankri’s tits up from underneath, putting them even more on display for him to suck and play with, taking his time.

He switches to the other one, closing his mouth around it and sucking, just teasing and playing with Kankri’s little tits, whispering little things to himself.

“Fuck you’re hot.”

“I want to sink my cock between these pretty tits.”

“So goddamn pretty.”

Just playing with his boyfriend’s body, enjoying himself, using it like a toy for him to touch and suck on and have fun with.

  
  


“No!” Kankri whines, frustrated, as Dirk tells him not to fuss, but his arms are about as useful as wet noodles - he can’t back up his protest with any kind of physical resistance now. He’s so heavy, hot and thrumming and his fear-arousal is giving way to pure arousal, softly whimpering as Dirk’s hands yank his clothes up to expose his bra. He tries to cover himself, but his hands are easily nudged away as Dirk touches up his chest, squeezes his tits as he says he _knew_ Kankri was soft underneath his sweater.

Dirk’s hands on his tits always feel good, strong fingers massaging into them, but Kankri full-on gasps and whines as Dirk sucks his nipple into his mouth.

“Nuh- no,” he pants, half-heartedly pushing at Dirk’s head as he sucks on the sensitive bud, as he pushes his tits up and together with strong hands and moans and oh, _God,_ the vibration of that moan around his nipple feels so fucking _good._ Kankri can’t hold back anything, not as drunk and cloudy as he is - his head tips back, moaning little _uh - huhh - huhh_ s in the back of his throat, thighs squeezing and shifting together as Dirk works his tit with his mouth and tongue.

“Oh, God,” Kankri moans as Dirk switches to his other nipple, fingers sunk loosely in his boyfriend’s hair as he alternately sucks on his tit and whispers little things into his chest. His hips jerk, cock jumping as he thinks about Dirk’s cock sliding between his tiny tits, not even enough to his chest to properly surround Dirk’s dick, how his boyfriend would mock and degrade him so good for it.

He thinks he likes how hot he feels this far into drunkenness, the heaviness to him, the helpless, vulnerable arousal he feels as his boyfriend takes advantage of all his weakness. He can’t help another whine, another weak attempt to writhe and squirm out from underneath Dirk that goes nowhere.

  
  


Kankri keeps panting out little protests, but they’re interspersed with drunken little moans, cute and helpless. Dirk can feel his hips jerking up against him, can feel his bodyfriend’s cute little cock hard against him, grins at the feeling of it.

And Kankri putting his hands in Dirk’s hair- god that’s good.

“That’s it, baby, relax.” Dirk coos. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Having your pretty little tits sucked on? They’re so soft and supple- makes me want to play with them for fucking hours.”

He leans in and teasingly sucks on one of them again, moaning low in his throat.

“God.” He breathes, and blows over the wet nipple. “So fucking pretty. Gonna make you feel even _better,_ baby.”

He gives the other one another suck, just to keep it nice and even- and then his hands are sliding down, down to the hem of Kankri’s leggings- and working them down.

“Lemme see you down here, too.” Dirk breathes, kissing the space between Kankri’s tits. “Bet you’re just as pretty.”

  
  


"Don’t tell me to -  _haaah,_ " Kankri tries to protest, cutting himself off with a surprised moan as Dirk ducks right back down to suck his nipple back into his mouth. Kankri’s whole chest jerks and stutters as Dirk blows over his wet skin, as the sensitive flesh peaks and hardens even further. All he can do is writhe as his boyfriend evens it out, whining desperately in his throat.

“Wait - wait,” he breathes, hands scrabbling for the waist of his leggings once Dirk starts to drag them down.

“Stop - please stop.” He grips his leggings as tightly as he can, knees pressed together as if he had the strength to stop Dirk - he knows he doesn’t. Just the knowledge alone makes him wetter, dripping hot and wet into his panties that Dirk is about to reveal.

  
  


Kankri begs him to stop and grabs at his leggings. Dirk just laughs.

“Still playing at being modest?” He breathes. “That’s alright- I can play along.”

He slides down the bed and lowers his head to the prominent bulge in Kankri’s leggings.

“It’s cute when you try and pretend you don’t want this.” Dirk murmurs, and then he’s pressing his mouth to the bulge, breathing hot and open-mouthed over it as he presses his tongue to the fabric, getting it damp, slowly kissing and tonguing over Kankri’s hard-on through his leggings.

“Let me see you, darling.” Dirk murmurs. “You’re so tiny- it’s adorable. I want to touch you- can I fit you all in my mouth? I want to feel every inch of you, you’re so delicious- you’re a perfect little meal for me to eat up.”

He presses his nose to Kankri’s bulge and breathes in deep.

“You smell so _good_.” He moans. “God, I wanna fuck you… come on, baby, stop playing so coy… I’ll make it feel so fucking good for you…”

  
  


"I’m not  _playing,_ " Kankri insists. Dirk stops stripping his leggings down to instead slide his way down the bed, and Kankri’s heart stutters to look down and see his face low, hovering over the bulge in his leggings. His face flushes hot with shame and humiliation as his boyfriend calls him out on how turned on he is, how hard he’s gotten with Dirk forcing through his protests to suck on his tiny tits.

Dirk presses his mouth to Kankri’s cock through his leggings, breath hot as he mouths and licks at him through the fabric; Kankri gasps and whines, cock jumping in its confines as Dirk works it over. Kankri’s hands flail and fumble down to Dirk’s head, but he only fists his soft hair between his fingers - he can’t bring himself to push his boyfriend away. Even Dirk’s words as he murmurs, mouth pressed against his bulge, get Kankri squirming, hips twitching up against his boyfriend’s mouth as he talks so sweet about Kankri’s little cock.

“Jesus,” Kankri breathes, as Dirk presses his nose into his crotch to breathe him in, moaning about how good he smells, and _fuck_ it feels like it shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but it has Kankri gushing into his panties, shivering and moaning as his thighs clench together.

It takes just a few more moments of squirming, of trying to resist, before Kankri breaks.

“Promise?” he asks, weakly.

  
  


Kankri’s hands go right into his hair, gripping- but not trying to tug him away, just holding desperately. Dirk can feel Kankri squirming underneath him and then-

A tiny little word.

_Promise?_

Dirk’s blood is on  _fire_ .

“Oh, I promise baby, gonna make you feel _so_ good.” Dirk breathes and plants another hot, open-mouthed kiss onto the wet fabric. “Gonna suck that pretty little cocklet until you cum, gonna fill you up with my dick until you’re cumming your brains out- just gotta let me get those leggings off, come on darling, drop those panties for me, let me see you-” Dirk croons, hands squeezing at Kankri’s thighs.

  
  


That one little word, Kankri’s tiny concession, spurs Dirk on, breathing hot against Kankri’s dick as he kisses and promises and practically  _begs_ Kankri to let him go further. He sounds desperate, clinging to Kankri’s thighs.

Kankri shivers, overwhelmed by Dirk’s hot mouth, his cajoling, his strong hands pressing into his flesh, all through the fabric of his leggings that suddenly feel like a prison. Kankri wriggles again, hips pressing up against Dirk’s mouth, whimpering pathetically - his fingers clench in Dirk’s hair, tugging gently.

“Okay,” he whispers, giving in fully to the heat of arousal and the haze of his drunkenness and how much he really does want his boyfriend to touch him and fuck him and make him cum. Slowly, he pulls his fingers from Dirk’s hair, grabbing the hitched-up hems of his sweater and top and starting to strip them fully off; it takes some effort, arms getting tangled as he struggles with the garments, but he manages, tossing them onto Dirk’s floor as he flops back into the pillows.

“Just… don’t freak out, okay?” he mumbles, words bleeding into each other as he relaxes the tight clench of his thighs, letting them fall open ever so slightly under Dirk.

  
  


Kankri gives in and the triumph Dirk feels is  _ dizzyingly _ good, heady and satisfying, the knowledge that  _ I made you this way _ ,  _ I made you give in _ , the knowledge of  _**You** _ _ are my reward _ is fucking  _ intoxicating. _

“Freak out?” Dirk raises a brow, though, staying in character as a grin slides onto his face. His hands find Kankri’s leggings again and tug them down, down, until he’s pulling them off and pushing Kankri’s thighs apart and kneeling between them.

He smooths his hands up Kankri’s thighs and into Kankri’s panties, only to pause as his fingers meet wetness.

“Oh?” His smile grows wider. “What’s this?”

His hands move to grab at Kankri’s panties and  _yank_ them down, rough and demanding.

“Oh, _look_ at you.” Dirk coos, taking two fingers and rubbing them roughly over Kankri’s folds. “You’re so fucking pretty, holy shit- I really fucking lucked out tonight, didn’t I? God, I’m gonna get my fucking dick into you, make you fucking _cream_ yourself on my cock.”

He shoves his fingers into Kankri and presses up the bed to claim Kankri’s mouth in a rough kiss, pumping his fingers into Kankri’s pussy.

“You’re such a pretty little slut, aren’t you?” Dirk purrs against Kankri’s mouth, voice low and full of hunger. “So ready for a nice, strong man to come take care of you, to make you feel good and fill you up. Isn’t that right?”

  
  


Kankri shakes and shivers as Dirk strips him of his leggings - it’s all anticipation, now, but he can play it off like it’s nerves and fear. Dirk’s fingers skate up his smooth legs, press into the wet spot in his panties and pretends he doesn’t know what’s underneath with a knowing grin. Jesus fuck, how did Kankri get so lucky?

Dirk practically tears Kankri’s panties off, ripping them down like he’s  _desperate_ to get inside, like nothing can stop him now that Kankri has given in. Kankri’s thighs are still quaking even as his boyfriend fawns over his pussy, slick-shiny and dripping, already starting to tease with his fingers as he calls Kankri pretty. God, every time Dirk does, Kankri can’t help the flutter in his chest, the knowledge that the people who hurt him, who made him ashamed and afraid, were  _wrong._

Dirk gives Kankri no warning before fucking his fingers inside his pussy, making him gasp and moan and tremble. Kankri can barely get a sound out of his mouth before his boyfriend is above him again, pressing in and kissing him rough and deep as he fucks his fingers steadily into Kankri, encouraging the wetness spilling out around his hand each time Kankri’s pussy squeezes around him. Kankri can’t help but take shaky breaths against Dirk’s mouth, can’t help pressing desperate, helpless sounds into their kiss. Dirk stays close to speak low, lips still pressed against Kankri’s as he calls Kankri a pretty little slut, intones again that he wanted this to happen. Kankri had almost forgotten their scene, so swept up by the kiss, the hot pleasure of Dirk’s fingers filling him.

“Nuh - no - no,” he mumbles, muffled against Dirk’s mouth. “I wasn’t - I didn’t ask for this.”

It’s a weak argument, especially with his hips starting to move with the rhythm of Dirk’s hand, with pretty whines still bubbling up from his throat.

  
  


Dirk laughs sharply, tone mocking and cruel.

“Are you sure?” He purrs, tugs his fingers out, and slaps over the wetness between Kankri’s thighs a couple of time. “I think this would say otherwise.”

He dips his head to suck Kankri’s tit into his mouth again, tonguing and nipping at his nipple none-too-gently, sucking and pulling away until Kankri’s tit  _pops_ out of the firm suction of his mouth.

" _Oh_ -" Dirk breathes. “Oh, I get it.” He grins, wide and  _mean_ , up at Kankri. “You’re a needy little slut who’s too afraid to ask men to fuck you- so you need someone to take the responsibility out of your hands, right? You needed a  _real_ man to come and push you down and make you submit.”

He laughs again, fucking three fingers into Kankri’s wet pussy. “Isn’t that right?” He croons. “You made yourself vulnerable and weak because you knew some man would see you and come fuck you.”

He nips at Kankri’s tit again.

“Are you lucky that I’m such a nice guy?” He purrs. “I took you _home_ to fuck you, I’m making sure you feel good too- I could have pulled you into the bathroom and fucked your ass dry and made it hurt and _left_ you there for the next guy, for drunk frat boy after frat boy to come pound your holes until you’re fucked out and broken.”

“Aren’t you _thankful_ I didn’t let that happen?” Dirk growls and _slams_ his fingers in, grinding up against Kankri’s gspot.

  
  


Dirk laughs at Kankri’s weak protest, smacks his cunt while he refutes it. Kankri moans high and sharp at each slap, jolting and looking shamed - Dirk knows how wet he is, how wet he gets from being manhandled and  _used._ There’s no use arguing.

Dirk’s mouth on Kankri’s nipple this time is aggressive, teeth grazing and firm tongue and hard suction - Kankri chokes on gasps, groans low and writhes underneath Dirk, hands bracing on his boyfriend’s shoulders until he pops off.

Kankri’s vision is still blurred and hazy from the intense sensations, slowed by his intoxication, when Dirk starts talking again, the fucking master of filth with a steel-sharp grin as he accuses Kankri of tempting on purpose, because he can’t ask directly for what he wants. The part of him that isn’t in the scene wants to retort with a ‘maybe so,’ but he’s not quite far gone enough to break character.

“No - that’s not -” he can’t get out more protest than that before Dirk’s fingers are inside him again, stuffing him full and fucking an unrestrained moan out of him as his head falls back. Despite the dullness he feels, the hot and the slow and the sluggish, he can feel everything Dirk does to him acutely - every nip to his sensitive skin, every twist of his hand, every dirty word as Dirk describes how he could have left Kankri to be raped over and over again by strangers.

“Hhaah - haah - y-yes,” Kankri half-moans, half-sobs, abs curling and quaking as Dirk works over his g-spot, rough and unrelenting. “F-fuuuck, thank - thank you, I’m - I d-dooon’t -” Kankri moans low and unsteady again, unable to string even simple words together with Dirk working him over so perfectly rough.

  
  


Dirk laughs again at Kankri’s stuttering words. “Good boy.” He coos mockingly. “I shoulda fingered you right there and then on the couch. Should have crowded you against the arm and slipped my hand right into those pretty panties of yours and made you squirm and try not to squeal and draw attention to yourself, to the slut on the couch getting fingerbanged at a party full of horny fratboy rapists. Would you have cum like that? Getting fingerfucked by a stranger? Knowing the only thing between you and being gangraped is your ability to stay silent?”

Dirk takes his free hand and reaches up, pinning Kankri to the bed by his throat. He yanks his fingers out and slaps lightly over Kankri’s pussy, ramping up the force with each slap.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut.” _Slap._ “Getting drunk at a frat party.” _Slap_. “Wearing those fucking leggings.” _Slap_. “Letting a stranger take you home.” _Slap._ “Letting a stranger fuck you.” _Slap._ “You don’t even know my name, do you?” _Slap_. “I sure as fuck don’t know yours.” _Slap._ “Don’t need to, though.” _Slap._ "You’re just a _slut._ "

_Smack._

Dirk rubs his fingers lightly through Kankri’s wetness- his pussy must be  _throbbing_ .

“Are you going to be a good slut and beg for this stranger’s cock?” Dirk coos. His voice is _full_ of malicious mockery. “Hold on, though-”

He wipes his hand on Kankri’s sheet and yanks his cock out, rubbing it through the slickness of Kankri’s pussy. As he rocks it against Kankri, he plunges his hand into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, unlocking it and starting a recording.

“Lemme hear you, baby.” Dirk purrs, voice suddenly warm and affectionate. “Lemme hear you beg, I want to hear you asking for my dick.” He gets a perfect fucking shot of his dick rubbing against Kankri’s slick cunt before panning it up to film Kankri’s face, grinning hungrily at him from behind the phone.

  
  


Kankri doesn’t trust his ability to speak anymore, and all he can do is moan helplessly as Dirk continues to detail the ways in which he could have - or  _should_ have - taken advantage of him, the ways he could have threatened worse while he did. It should spur  _some_ kind of fight in Kankri, but he’s just so drunk, so fucking hot and wet and hard that he can’t even muster the will.

Kankri’s eyelids droop and flutter as Dirk pins him down by the throat. It’s just enough pressure that he can feel it, not enough that it’s going to hurt him. Dirk is fucking perfect.

Kankri’s body jerks and curls with each smack to his cunt, whimpering and moaning and yelping as they get more intense, but Dirk keeps him held  _right there,_ keeps him grounded through all of it. Kankri frantically shakes his head to Dirk’s question -  _you don’t even know my name, do you?_ \- and sobs his way through the last couple hits.

Dirk’s gentle touch feels like not nearly enough over his abused pussy, burning hot and throbbing as the sting of the hits fades back into a duller ache, and Kankri finds himself pressing into it, seeking more, whimpering as he arches under Dirk’s pinning hand. He nods, unthinking, as Dirk taunts him, and whines when his touch pulls away.

“Ohhh my God,” Kankri moans, hips desperately jerking as Dirk rubs his cock up against his throbbing, swollen, sensitive cunt. His head is dropped back, eyes slipped shut, whimpers and whines steadily escaping as he rocks his hips against Dirk’s cock, when Dirk’s tone abruptly changes.

Kankri struggles to lift his head, much less focus on Dirk; it takes him a moment to realize he’s holding his phone. Oh,  _fuck_ \- ice drops right through his stomach, followed by lava-heat as he remembers it’s not  _real,_ that Dirk would never do that to him. The  _concept_ alone, though, is so fucking hot and heavy that it sends Kankri absolutely reeling.

“What - what are you doing,” he whimpers, struggling to push himself up on his elbows, “Please - don’t - don’t film me, please -”

  
  


“Shh, shh- relax, baby, I just wanna have a little memento.” Dirk soothes, keeping his voice nice and gentle. He smooths his hand up Kankri’s stomach, gently cups one of Kankri’s tits and rolls the nipple between his fingers, cups Kankri’s cheek and thumbs over his mouth.

“You’re so goddamn pretty it’d be a shame to let this night go unremembered- can I hear you beg so sweetly for me?” Dirk purrs. “I wanna hear that pretty voice of yours, asking for my cock, wanting to get fucked.”

God. God this is so fucking hot. Is Kankri going to do it, going to beg for him on camera? Is he going to give rapist-Dirk ammunition that Kankri ‘liked it’, that it wasn’t really rape, give him something to put Kankri at his beck and call?

“Come on, sweetheart,” Dirk breathes, grinding his cock between Kankri’s wet folds. “Lemme hear that sweet voice.”

  
  


Kankri shivers under Dirk’s calm coaxing, under his gentle touch, whimpering softly with the tweak of his nipple and obviously tipping his face into Dirk’s hand. It would be so easy to give in now, to give Dirk what he wants, anything to get his dick  _inside,_ but Kankri keeps up the struggle, lip pulling between his teeth as Dirk continues to try to get him to beg. On  _camera._

It would be the end for Kankri, in-character. With him begging on video, nobody would believe him if he tried to do - to do  _anything._ He’d be completely at Dirk’s mercy. Dirk could do anything - maybe he’d have Kankri doing increasingly ridiculous and humiliating things to keep his pussy from being plastered all over the internet. The thought makes him shiver all over, so fucking hot and wet where he’s pressed up against Dirk’s cock.

He already knew what he was going to do, but embarrasment still reddens his face and chest as he takes a breath to speak.

“Please,” he starts, so quiet and weak, voice trembling, "please, I want - I want your cock, I need it, I need it inside, I need - need to be fu- _huu_ cked, _please._ " His eyes squeeze shut as he begs exactly how he’s told, whimpering the more Dirk grinds against him and teases his abused pussy with the pressure and friction.

  
  


Dirk grins and ends the recording, tossing his phone to the side.

" _Good_ boy." He purrs, reaches down, and presses his dick into Kankri. “You’re a perfect little slut, aren’t you?”

He eases his way inside, savoring the feeling of it with a heady groan, grinding in until he’s seated completely inside of his boyfriend’s wet, perfect pussy.

“God, so fucking perfect.” He breathes. “Fucking top tier pussy- who knew a cute little nerd like you would be hiding such a perfect cunt? You’re fucking _made_ to take cock, aren’t you? Soft and pretty all over with a wet pussy to match.”

He laughs, hikes up Kankri’s legs, and begins to rock, a slow, deep drag.

“You stupid dumb little slut.” Dirk groans. “No wonder you were fucking asking for it- with a tiny little cock like that you can’t fuck anyone- you _need_ to be fucked, but you can’t just ask people for that, can you? You need to make yourself open and available, nice and drunk for the fucking.”

“You’re so lucky I came along, that I saw you and I’m giving you what you need.” Dirk coos. “You won’t have to pretend anymore, I’ll give you as much dick as you need, I’ll make sure you’re never left wanting. A perfect pussy like yours should be filled up all the time, should never be left unfucked, should always be bouncing on a cock.”

He pulls back and  _snaps_ his hips in abruptly, starting a hard, strong fuck. “After all, you’re my pretty little pocket pussy now, aren’t you? You better understand your place- you’re mine, a toy for me to use and fuck whenever I want. You don’t want that video of you begging spread around do you? You don’t want everyone to know you’re a slut whos open season, who’ll spread his legs for anyone.”

  
  


Kankri has little time to think more about the recording, overwhelmed at once by his boyfriend’s praise and the slow, delicious slide as he sinks himself inside Kankri’s pussy. He pants soft, unsteadt moans the deeper Dirk presses, splitting him open with heat, mewling with desperation as his hips meet Kankri’s lips.

Dirk always fills him up so good, fucks him so perfectly; Kankri’s head tips back against the pillows, eyes slipping shut as he savors the sensations while his body is no longer rejecting them. Dirk’s panting praises, voice breathy as he calls Kankri’s pussy perfect, calls him made for taking cock, and Kankri can only warble in agreement, can only try to keep himself in the position his boyfriend adjusts his legs into as he starts to move, slow and deep.

It’s  _good,_ like always, just enough to get Kankri’s legs shaking from the tease, from the high of hearing Dirk make his own sounds of pleasure. Kankri reaches down, one clumsy, drunk hand skipping along the sheets to find and squeeze Dirk’s leg while the other twists itself into the pillow beneath his head. He keeps himself anchored like this while Dirk mocks his little cocklet, making him whine high while that little cock twitches obviously from how much the humiliation turns him on.

Kankri’s hips start to shift and then roll while his perfect fucking boyfriend promises to never let him go without cock filling him up, calls Kankri his little fucktoy the way he fucking  _loves_ and starts fucking into him  _rough,_ at a pace that has Kankri bouncing underneath him with each strong thrust. The rocking has Kankri’s drunk mind reeling, gasping and moaning as he goes dizzy and digs his nails into Dirk’s thigh.

Kankri can’t hope to work words out in this condition, bouncing steadily on his boyfriend’s cock, already drunk out of his mind and overwhelmed with sensation - all he can do is shake his head as he wails desperately. His heels dig into Dirk’s back- whether simply for purchase or to urge Dirk on, even Kankri doesn’t know. He’s swimming, heavy and weightless at once, all his physical awareness centered on the heat slamming into his cunt.

  
  


Oh, Kankri is  _so_ far gone, it’s so fucking adorable. Dirk laughs and just lets filth croon out of his mouth, vicious fucking fantasies, all for himself to hear as he pounds Kankri into the bed, sinking his cock into Kankri’s pussy over and over.

Kankri’s hand on his leg is a nice feeling- just a tiny little way of anchoring them both in the sensation.

“You’re going to be my own personal slut from now on, you pretty little thing.” Dirk purrs. “You’ll be at my beck and call- my own personal pocket pussy, ready to be used whenever I want. You’ve gone man-hunting for the last time- you’re all mine now.”

“I’m going to dress you up so fucking pretty and tear those clothes off of you, I’m going to stuff my cock down that throat of yours, between those soft, fuckable lips, going to fuck you in your own bed and make you cum over and over, taken by your new Master whenever he wants, _wherever_ he wants, I’m going to make you do so many fucking embarrassing things you stupid whore, going to take you apart and put you back together however I want.”

He grabs Kankri’s legs and presses them up to Kankri’s chest, folding him in half so that Dirk can shift and pin Kankri underneath him completely, humping shallow and rough, down into Kankri’s pussy, their faces barely inches apart.

“Are you with me, slut?” Dirk purrs. “You can’t do anything but get fucked right now, can you?” He laughs mockingly. “You’re the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had, so fucking wet and tight. You’ll offer it up to me anytime I want, be my own little whore for me to use and fuck however I please.”

  
  


He knows Dirk is still talking, but Kankri can’t keep himself above any longer to try to understand; he’s sunk deep, clinging only to the sweet, low, rumbling tones of his boyfriend’s voice as he floats in that perfect space. He’s still bouncing with Dirk’s thrusts, hard and deep, eyes rolled up and jaw dropped, high and desperate noises just rolling out of him.

Everything is the ball of molten heat low in Kankri’s hips, Dirk’s solid thigh grasped in his hand, Dirk’s voice giving him purchase, Dirk’s cock making him shake and cry and moan and  _squeeze_ , cunt trying to draw him deeper, fingers digging hard into Dirk’s muscles. Everything is  _Dirk,_ surrounding Kankri and filling him up and giving him purpose, giving him permission.

“Hu _uh_ -” Kankri grunts from the pressure as Dirk folds him up, pressing his weight onto Kankri’s legs onto his chest as he shifts to be fully on top of him. Kankri could cry - he doesn’t know how Dirk always knows what he needs when he can’t speak. Dirk’s weight on Kankri’s chest while his cock drives down into his pussy is _divine,_ fucking short punches of breathy moans out of him.

Kankri’s hands scrabble clumsily to grasp Dirk’s shoulders, expression gaping and overwhelmed and blissed the  _fuck out_ as his boyfriend fucks into him at this new angle. Tears leak down his temples as he cries in pleasure, as an impending orgasm builds in pressure as Dirk’s cock perfectly fucks up against his g-spot with Kankri’s cunt squeezing him so tight.

Kankri doesn’t know how to ask to cum, doesn’t know if he  _can_ like this, only letting out a higher, more desperate wail than before as he clings to Dirk, nails digging hard into his boyfriend’s shoulders.

  
  


Kankri’s crying and clinging to Dirk and Dirk knows what Kankri needs now isn’t words, isn’t the continuation of the scene- what he needs now is to be fucked, plain and simple.

So he grinds in deep so that he can shift his hold on Kankri, keeping him folded in half, and buries one hand into Kankri’s hair as he starts fucking shallow thrusts down into his boyfriend’s perfect cunt.

He presses his mouth to Kankri’s temple and switches to the tone of voice he knows never fails to make Kankri go boneless, low and soft and full of naked, affectionate possessiveness.

“That’s it, that’s my pretty toy, my perfect slut, my beautiful little rape bait,” Dirk breathes, crooning, murmuring, whispering, anything to make Kankri _melt_ , “so fucking perfect underneath me, made to take my cock, I’m never letting you go, darling you’re so perfect, this cunt of yours so tight and wet, you belong to me, you’re all _mine_ , baby you’re all mine, you’re my toy, my perfect, wonderful slut, all mine…”

He’s drawing it out, now, with his slower, harder pace, wanting to savor his drunk boyfriend’s  _beautiful_ noises.

“Gonna lock you up so nice and tight, gonna never let you free, keep you safe from everyone else, you’ll never fucking leave my bed, will you? My own pretty little whore, lounging around for me to use whenever I want, no one else gets to even _look_ at you, let alone touch you- no one else gets to have you, not for a single fucking moment. Gonna lock you up good so not even you can touch yourself- you’re all fucking mine, mine- you’re _mine_ , sweetheart, my pretty toy, only _I_ get to touch you.”

  
  


Dirk presses in deep and stills to shift his hold and Kankri makes the most pathetic sound he thinks he’s ever made, the mount of his orgasm halted by the pause. Still, Dirk sinks his fingers into Kankri’s hair and holds him tight, grounds him there as Kankri gasps and pants underneath him. Dirk’s new pace is slower, and he barely pulls back before fucking in hard enough to fuck little guttural noises out of Kankri with each thrust.

Dirk presses his mouth right up against Kankri’s sweaty, hair-plastered skin and starts speaking steadily in that tone of voice that always always always takes Kankri apart at the seams, leaves him pinned open on the table for Dirk to play inside however he wants.

Kankri can’t even see, eyes rolled back in his head as Dirk talks and talks and talks and fucks steadily into his cunt. The only thing in Kankri’s whole world is the wet sounds of Dirk’s cock fucking into him, the low rumble of Dirk’s voice, the word  _mine_ and  _mine_ and  _mine_ lighting up his chest each time Dirk purrs it.

_mine_

_mine_

_m i n e_

Kankri is  _dying_ to answer, dying to cum, dying to never let this end. Little truncated syllables drip from his mouth, desperately failing to form words, just  _yuh_ and  _duh_ and  _haaaaaaaah_ as he clings to Dirk, clings to his Master, and wordlessly begs him to guide him through.

  
  


Dirk looks down at Kankri, at his boyfriend, who’s drunk and fucked out of all rational thought, his expression that desperate mix of hazy need and overwhelmed that Dirk loves to see.

Dirk can say  _anything_ , when Kankri’s like this- he can spill all his filthy desires and secrets and wants and it will only work Kankri up more because Dirk knows Kankri is  _long_ past the point of cohesiveness, of rationality- the only thing in his poor boyfriend’s brain is getting  _fucked._

So, to the sound of every pretty little punched out noise forced from Kankri’s throat, Dirk starts growling, opens up his locked doors and  _purrs._

“That’s it, my pretty bitch, my stupid fucking whore, you’re all mine. Going to pin you down and rape you every fucking day, sink my dick into that pretty cunt of yours, stuff you full of my cum until you’re _dripping_. My personal fucking cumdump, so stupid and airheaded, going to make you sob and cry and wail as I rape this perfect cunt of yours open, make you take my cock, going to choke you on my cock, I’ll _rape_ that throat of yours, until you’re _sobbing_.”

He adjusts his grip in Kankri’s hair and fists his soft locks tightly again, still snapping his hips in tiny little fucks, hard and deep.

“You’re mine, mine mine _mine_ _**mine**_ , all fucking mine, my rape toy, my fucking doll to use however I want, _no_ one gets you, you’ll never fucking leave me because _I won’t let you_ , you’re _mine_ you fucking belong to me-” Dirk is panting against Kankri’s neck, everything’s so fever-hot, the alcohol cranking it up to eleven. “You ever fucking try to leave me I’ll collar you to my fucking bed, rape you so fucking hard until you know who _owns_ you. _I own you_ , Kankri, you’re fucking _mine_ , you slut, you rapeable whore, you’re _mine_ , I’ll fucking kill anyone who touches you. I’ll _kill_ them, Kankri, I don’t fucking share, I don’t- You’re never leaving me.”

  
  


“Never. Not _ever_. You’re fucking mine. I’ll rape that slutty ass of yours whenever I want- you try to leave and I’ll spank you until you’re _crying_ , I’ll hunt you down and rape you, I’ll rape you, _rape_ you- You understand? You’re _my_ fucking plaything, my toy, my perfect whore, my stupid slut- this pussy _belongs_ to me, you belong to me- My perfect, rape bait doll to be played with _forever._ You’ll worship your master’s cock with your body, there will never be another one for you. Only _I_ get to have you.”

“I should fucking mark you- make you get a pretty little tramp stamp, show the world what a slut you are, pierce these _pretty_ fucking tits- I’d fucking _brand_ you if I could, Kankri- you’re my fucking livestock, my stupid fucking cow, I should tag your fucking ear, make you wear a collar all the goddamn time so people know to _keep their fucking hands off of you-_ You’re fucking **mine** , I don’t care how rapeable you are, **I’m** the only one who gets to touch you. What you want _doesn’t fucking matter_ because you _belong_ to me, my pet, my goddamn pet, my fucking _slave_ , I own you- you’re fucking human livestock, Kankri, you’re my fucking cow and the _world_ should see it, should know who fucking _owns_ you.”

  
  


“You’re nothing more than my slutty bitch in heat, my stupid sow needing breeding, isn’t that fucking right? You’re so goddamn fussy that you need your master to _rape_ you so that you can fulfill your purpose, you stupid fucking whore. You’re mean to take my cock and be _raped_ , it’s no fucking wonder you cry so pretty- because if you’re being fucked you _should_ be crying, you should be nothing but raped all hours of the day- god, I’d do nothing fucking else if I could, just sink my cock into you, into this slutty pussy, into your whore ass, down that throat, stuff you full of cum and just _rape_ you forever- forever and ever and ever because you’re _mine_ and I can _do that_ , I can do whatever the fuck I want with you. I could fucking drug you and rape your limp body and you’d fucking say _thank you_ , you stupid whore, you dumb fucking human cow with your pretty tits and pathetic little cocklet- your stupid little girlcock, isn’t that right? You’re hardly a _boy_ , Kankri, you’re just a stupid sow to be fucked and raped and _bred_ , you’re my own slut, _my slut_ , you’re my slut, my rape bait, my slutty fucking whore and you’re _all fucking_ _ **mine**_.”

Dirk is half-feral as he pants and snarls and fucks into Kankri, slapping their hips together, using his grip on Kankri’s hair as counterpoint, pulling Kankri back and forth as he fucks and fucks and  _fucks_ . He rears back, reaches out, and wraps a hand around Kankri’s throat, squeezing tightly, and spitting down onto Kankri’s face, right onto his cheek.

“Take it, take your Master’s cock, your Master is raping your pretty cunt and you’ll _thank me for it_ when it’s done, when my cum is stuffed up inside of your whore cunt, those pretty tits bouncing like the cow you are, going to fucking _brand_ you, make you fucking _scream_ as I claim you, as I sear my mark into your skin, you’ll _never fucking leave me_.”

  
  


Dirk spits again, and then again, and then  _again_ down onto Kankri, barely remembering to let go enough for Kankri to  _breathe_ . Has Kankri cum? He doesn’t know. He’s out of his fucking mind with lust, with desire and hunger and  _power_ , power over this beautiful boy, over this rapeable,  _rapeable_ boy who  _belongs to Dirk._ This boy who will let Dirk do  _anything_ to him.

" _**Cum, slut** _ ." Dirk order with a snarl, fisting Kankri’s cocklet and  _ squeezing _ .

  
  


Kankri can’t hope to pick up everything Dirk is saying, or even most of it; he’s barely conscious of anything but his boyfriend’s steady, rough thrusts, how it feels to be fucked into and have his hair pulled and have Dirk  _growling_ filth in his ear as he gasps and cries and moans. how it feels to be helpless underneath someone he loves.

Dirk gradually gets more intense, and Kankri knows he’s working himself into a frenzy, all  _mine mine mine mine_ and  _fucking kill_ and  _Kankri_ and  _rape, rape, rape, rape._

Kankri’s ramping up to cumming quickly again, spurred on by Dirk’s advancing roughness, the way he loses himself into fucking like an animal, snarls  _my fucking cow_ as Kankri mewls and gasps and trembles beneath him, clinging to him with scrabbling nails and climbs closer and closer back into that overwhelming heat and concentrated pressure cradled in his hips that begs for release.

Suddenly, Dirk sits back, strong hand shooting out to wrap tightly around Kankri’s throat. So tight that Kankri can’t even moan, the sound dying beneath his boyfriend’s grip. Kankri’s hands, having fallen from Dirk’s back, wrap around his wrist, holding tightly as he fruitlessly gasps for air, mouth dropped open uselessly.

Dirk spits on him, hips still snapping into him over and over, growls  _take it_ and  _brand you_ and  _never fucking leave me_ and Kankri would sob if he could, so desperately fucking full and pent up, but no sound comes out even as tears leak from his eyes, as he flinches as Dirk spits again, and again, and again. He’s so fucking ready to cum it  _hurts,_ so deep under and vision blackening and blurring at the edges, floating as his nails dig into his boyfriend’s wrist.

  
  


Dirk finally lets go, and Kankri gasps, and coughs, and sobs, and groans rasping and horrible as he bounces from the force of Dirk’s thrusts. He’s close, he’s close, he’s so close, mind pitching with the sudden influx of oxygen and abs shuddering as he slams into his orgasm, one fucking touch from Dirk and he’s  _gone,_ tiny cock jumping in his squeezing grasp and cunt squeezing and shaking around that fat cock as he finally cums, sobbing loud and unrestrained.

  
  


Kankri cums apart with a  _sobbing_ wail underneath him, the noise of an overwhelmed  _bitch_ being dominated by his master. Dirk groans at the sound, at the feeling of Kankri clamping down around him. His pretty little rape slut always cums so perfectly, so beautifully for him.

“That’s it, you whore, you fucking whore-” Dirk pants as his hips jerk and slap into Kankri’s _tight_ cunt, so fucking close. "You cry so _goddamn_ pretty, how could I let you go, how could I let you do _anything_ but be mine, be _mine-_ "

He groans as he finally pushes over that edge, burying himself deep and cumming, filling Kankri up with his seed. “Never fucking letting you go, you  _belong_ to me-” He pants, still feverish and hungry, wanting Kankri again and again and again- he wants to pull Kankri’s hair, wants to spank him and make him wail and cry, wants to slap his soaking cunt until it’s puffy and red and then  _rape_ him, wants to be so so mean to Kankri because Dirk  _owns_ him.

He’s clawing his way back to rationality, though, because Kankri is  _sobbing_ , is crying fat, thick tears and they’re drunk and Kankri is helpless and that’s so so hot but this feels  _real_ , feels like Dirk is pushing too hard so he grabs at the bed and sinks his hands in, gripping tightly to try and settle himself.

“Shh, shh-” he hushes, leaning in, putting his weight onto Kankri. “Shh, baby, it’s okay- that was scary, wasn’t it? That’s what you do to me, that’s how fucking crazy you get me, I just _have_ to fucking have you, can’t hold back-”

He finally trusts himself enough to reach for Kankri, cupping his cheeks gently and pressing soft kisses to his skin. “You’re too perfect, too rapeable, my pretty toy, you’re all mine.” He whispers, pulling out words that he knows comforts Kankri. “I’m not gonna let anyone touch you- you’re all mine. Only me.  _Only me._ Only my cock gets to rape this pretty cunt of yours, only I get to love you. You’re my toy.”

  
  


Kankri goes limp after his orgasm fades, completely pliant for his Master; Dirk’s frantic thrusts jostle his body, fucking little gasps and hiccups into his sobs as he cries. Dirk slams home and cums before too long, and Kankri whines breathy and teary as he’s filled with warmth.

Kankri can only lie still, catching his breath, fingers twitching where they lay on the bed, face and neck and hair wet with his own tears. Dirk seems to need a moment to himself, to pull himself back in; Kankri does, too, still drunk and swimming. He closes his eyes, breathing deep until his racing pulse slows.

Dirk’s weight presses down over Kankri and he sighs heavy with relief and affection - his arms are leaden but he lifts them clumsily to wrap around his Master all the same, holding him close while he hushes and soothes.

“Not scared,” Kankri rasps, throat wrecked and vocabulary barely in command. He wouldn’t speak at all if he didn’t have to, having sunk deep into that place where he doesn’t even have the ability, but this is important. Kankri knows his Master, knows how Dirk struggles with his desire and his control over himself in tandem - knows how he fears pushing Kankri too far in his own frenzy.

Kankri opens his eyes again as Dirk cradles his face between those strong hands, dark brown eyes blinking bleary and unfocused up at his Master and eyelashes fluttering closed again as Dirk leans in to kiss his face. He lets all of Dirk’s words sink into him, comprehending slow but sure all of the possession, his affectionate, romantic degradation of Kankri the way he loves to be degraded, the  _only I get to love you._ Kankri makes soft, pleased little rattles of sounds, eyes blinking open again.

“Yours, Master,” he croaks, simple and sure.

  
  


Kankri hugs him and denies being scared and relief swamps through Dirk with a heady rush of relief. He keeps pressing kisses to Kankri’s skin as Kankri confirms who he belongs to.

“That’s right.” Dirk murmurs, his cock still inside Kankri’s pussy, slowly going soft. "You’re all mine, baby. All mine. Only I get to rape you. You’re all _mine._ "

He nuzzles over Kankri’s neck and bites a couple of times, light and teasing- and then latches on and  _sucks_ a deep, hard mark.

" _ Mine. _ " He growls, once he’s done. Kankri is  _ his _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Dirk is played by [@LPSunnyBunny](http://www.twitter.com/LPSunnyBunny)!, Kankri is played by Ectothermal!


End file.
